


Sendai magnitude 10.0

by RussianSunflower3



Series: Sunflower's Seijou week [7]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Blood, Fire, Gen, Graphic Description of Injury, Karasuno High School, Lots of it, Minor Character Death, PTSD, Recovery after trauma, Refuge camps, Seijou Week, Survival, earthquake, rescue efforts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-05-27 13:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 79,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6286099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianSunflower3/pseuds/RussianSunflower3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In March 2011, an earthquake occurred off the coast of Sendai when the pacific plate slipped. Now, it's happening again, but it's stronger.</p><p>Aobajousai is struck with the full force of a magnitude 10.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Quiver and shake, tremble and break.

It wasn’t unusual for the ground to quake beneath their feet and items to fall off shelves in their day to day life. Earthquakes were common in Sendai, a magnitude three every couple of days, maybe a magnitude five twice a month.

The region was well prepared for earthquakes around this sort of strength. They only lasted for a few seconds anyways, maybe a full minute in rare circumstances. The ease of which these earthquakes were dealt with lulled them into a false sense of security, and perhaps that is why everything changed so drastically when _it_ happened. 

The pacific plate slipped. The epicentre was only miles from shore. The country dropped two meters into the ocean and a earthquake begun to shake the land. Despite it being on the same fault line as the March 2011 quake, scientists had not expressed concern and no warnings had been given when the pressure built up. They were sure it would travel southwards in a series of smaller earthquakes, nothing serious. Nature, however, was unpredictable and wild and furious. 

It was 11:42am. Classes were in session and nobody was any the wiser. When the shaking started, an alarm went off and students calmly ducked beneath their desks as they had been taught. They figured they would emerge in a few seconds, seeing as the shaking didn’t seem too bad. Maybe a magnitude 5 or 6. 

But the vibration didn’t stop. It grew strong, more frequent. The school building itself seemed to sway under the abuse as it started to crack and the ground beneath it liquefied into moving plates. The floors beneath them started to collapse and crouched beneath his desk, watching as bits of the ceiling fell all around him, Oikawa made a decision. 

“Run for outside!” He scrambled to his feet, unsteady on the crumbling floor and thrown about by the quake, but he didn’t stop as he staggered out his classroom, heading towards 3-5. The door had been thrown off its hinges and he stepped in, fighting the incline as the school building tilted to get to one particular desk where a figure crouched under it immobile in fear. 

Oikawa grabbed his petrified best friend’s wrist, dragging him out. He didn’t need to ask what had traumatized him so. The desk next to his had been crushed by the falling roof structure, streams of blood shaken from underneath in zigzag lines that betrayed the amount their region was shaking by. If that wasn’t bad enough, he knew Iwaizumi had a phobia of earthquakes beforehand. 

“Oikawa! Iwaizumi!” It seemed that Hanamaki and Matsukawa had had the same idea. They were clinging to opposite sides of the corridor, being smashed into each other every now and then as they made their way towards the duo. Oikawa didn’t have time to think before his mouth was spilling everything in his brain, not processing the words until they were out in the open.

“Get the others. We need to get outside and to high ground before a tsunami hits. Don’t waste time though. If you can’t get to them, they’re as good as dead anyways.” It hurt to say it. It hurt to see his own shock and grief on Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s face, but it was true. 

“Take Iwaizumi to the hill, Oikawa. You can count on us.” The entire building lurched. Oikawa’s stomach clenched as he hoped that none of the team, _his friends_ , were on the east side of the building. It was crushed. The bottom levels had caved, the east third year classrooms forming a right angle with the ever shifting ground. Oikawa used the new angle of the building to slide out the west side, careful not to fall through any broken windows. Iwaizumi hadn’t said anything. He didn’t need to, as long as his legs automatically followed Oikawa’s and he _kept moving_. 

“Duck!” He heard the shout and obeyed before he even thought about who it was, relived that he had instinctively followed the instruction when an uprooted tree was thrown over his head by a ripple in the ground. He felt the branches brush over him, strands of his hair torn away as he covered Iwaizumi. The person who had called out appeared next to him, hand on his shoulder to tell him it was okay, before he started running once more with this new companion. He glanced out the corner of his eye and recognised the person immediately.

“Y- Yahaba-chan!” 

“Shut up! Keep running! We need to reach the hill!” As suddenly as it had started, the shaking stopped. Having adjusted to running across the wobbling, floating ground, all three tripped. 

“Oof! Sorry Iwa-chan!” Hyperventilating breaths caught his attention and he immediately moved to pull him into a comforting hug, glancing back at the Aobajousai school building. Nothing remained but a few standing supports, and disseminated rubble. Both setters had matching expressions of horror. Yahaba jerked up to run towards it, but Oikawa reached out and grabbed his wrist, shaking his head frantically.

“D-Don’t. Those were only the S-waves. We need- We need to be in the open when the P-waves strike...” Yahaba bit his lip, eyes filling with water and choking out a sob as he realised; Oikawa was right. They may have been the only three to escape the building in time. They wouldn’t be safe if they stayed. He helped Oikawa to his feet, the two of them supporting Iwaizumi between them as they kept running, and running, and running. It seemed endless, and it was terrifying. 

There were screams of anguish and grief in the air, car alarms slicing through the air, distant explosions and crackling rage of nearby fires. Water sloshed around their ankles as it rose up from cracks in the ground like fountains. Just as they reached the hill, the ground started shaking once more. It trembled and ruptured the ground and threw them to the broken earth with a violent shudder that never seemed to end. 

“Oikawa-Senpai!” Yahaba reached out towards him in fright as his body was thrown around like a ragdoll, almost separating him from the two teammates. Oikawa had quickly reacted, grabbing the outstretched hand and pulling him in close, wrapping his free arm around him as he lay on his side, huddling the two close. At some point, Iwaizumi almost stopped breathing, but a squeeze from Oikawa reminded him that his lungs really needed to be operation to flee the earthquake between waves. 

“It’s okay, we’re going to be okay. I’ve got you both. As soon as it eases up, even just the slightest, we make our way towards the steps, okay?” The stairs leading up ‘The Hill’ were only meters away, the railing leading up to it cracked and bent out of shape, but going _up_ was their only option is they wanted to survive the possible tsunami afterwards. 

Oikawa’s heart panged immediately. His last thought of a tsunami... Was when he had sent Mattsun and Makki off into the lower layers of the school building. If they hadn’t escaped in time, they were certainly crushed beneath what once remained of their powerhouse school.

“Oikawa-Senpai?” He was shocked back to reality, feeling the quivering earth ease off. Yahaba wouldn’t question the tears tracking down his face, considering the younger was crying himself, tremors racking his body in pure terror.

“Drop the Senpai, we don’t have time. Ready? GO!” Picking themselves up from the ground, they stumbled over the the stars just before the second wave hit. Yahaba was able to grab onto the metal support bars to hold himself standing, but Oikawa fell backwards and started to skid down the slight downwards gradient back towards the school. He probably would have slid further if there suddenly hadn’t been a warm weight at his back blocking him from falling more. 

He couldn’t form words with the shaking, remembered the lessons on how important it was to keep his jaw tightly clenched so he didn’t bite his tongue in the quakes. But he would recognise that strawberry blond/pinkish hue anywhere. Oikawa’s eyes lit up when Hanamaki winked down at him, eyes darting over to the left to gesture to where Oikawa presumed there were others. How many others? Was it their team? Had they lost anyone? 

He didn’t have time to ask before the waves seem to ease up and he was forcefully pushed to his feet, Iwaizumi swept from his arms, and shoved towards the stairs. Yahaba reached for him, linking their hands as he starting climbing uphill. Quickly, Oikawa glanced backwards. Hanamaki was behind him, carrying Iwaizumi bridal style, and he thought he caught a glimpse of two black haired companions, one obviously Matsukawa from the curly mess, and the other Kindaichi even though a few strands had come loose and Oikawa thought he spotted **blood**. He didn’t see anyone else, probably blocked from view by the taller members. _He hoped._

This time, the shaking subsided for longer, allowing them to reach the top of ‘The Hill’ in a state where they were all breathing heavily and exhausted. As a volleyball team, an athletic club, their stamina and endurance were tremendous, but ‘The Hill’ was more like a mountain, and they’d had to scale it like a obstacle course, scrambling over fallen trees, squeezing between the railings as they folding into the path, ducking beneath electrical wires from toppled pylons. It seemed to suddenly go too quiet, like the earth had ceased its destructive dance. As soon as they’d reached the top, the team had flopped where they were. Oikawa was the first to lift his head and look around.

_‘Yahaba, Iwa-chan, Makki, Mattsun, Kindaichi, Kunimi... Where are the other two?!’_

He felt panic and bile rise in his throat. Where was Kyoutani? Where was Watari?! Why weren’t they here, safe, on ‘The Hill’?! Panting, Matsukawa was the next to move, his hands shaking like the ground had been moments ago, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He sat up, meeting Oikawa’s gaze as he looked around. He noticed the frantic haze in Oikawa’s eyes, the concern sky rocketing as he took note of those present. Or rather, those who weren’t. 

Matsukawa swallowed and shook his head. They hadn’t found them. Kyoutani and Watari, wherever they where, had not made it to the summit of this mountain. He was about to cry out, to scream, to shout for them and pray they responded, when a tiny whimper followed by the softest hushing caught his ears. His head whipped around to Hanamaki, crouched over Iwaizumi and trying to calm him.

“Iwa-chan!” Not caring if another wave struck in that moment, or if aftershocks tried to shake him from the summit, Oikawa pushed himself to his feet and quickly moved to their side, nudging Hanamaki away and pulling Iwaizumi up to lean into him, clinging on for dear life with nails digging into Oikawa’s back. He didn’t care. The physical pain he felt from that was _nothing_ compared to what he knew Iwaizumi was going through. 

“Shh, shh... It’s okay, we’re here... We’re here, Hajime. We’re safe.” He felt the slightest shift in Iwaizumi’s breathing style, in the tension that rooted him to the ground, to Oikawa, and petrified him. Exhaling slowly in relief, he brought a hand up to gently stroke it through the rough hairstyle.

“Oikawa...?” Hanamaki was, undoubtedly, confused. And honestly, a little bit scared in a different way to what the earthquake had caused. He’d never seen Iwaizumi so _terrified_ , freezing on the spot and panicking. He’d never seen him fall into the arms of his best friend, crying and shaking and whimpering, Oikawa holding him steady and soothing him like a child. Oikawa met Hanamaki’s eyes and drew a breath in, holding it until it stung, and his eyes felt watery. 

“He lost his dad in a Tsunami years ago... And I- I think he saw someone in his classroom cr-crushed.” He swallowed down the lump in his throat, the image burning into his mind and making him feel sick. What if that had happened to their two missing members? 

He automatically wanted to go back and check on them, the urge almost winning out. But he couldn’t let that control him. He could grieve later, if that was necessary. They may have made it. Right now, he had to focus on making sure Iwaizumi calmed down from his panic, and didn’t slip into disassociation as he had done in 2011. Another whimper.

“Shh... Shh...” He pressed his lips to Iwaizumi’s forehead, murmuring words of comfort as best he could, trying not to let Iwaizumi feel the teardrops that clearly fell from his brown eyes as he surveyed the destruction that had been left behind. For as far as he could see, there was nothing left but wasteland. Oikawa wasn’t the first one to audibly cry. 

A choked sob escaped Kindaichi from a few meters away, face buried in his hands as he broke down. Matsukawa had moved to sit next to the first year, rubbing his back gently and trying to offer comfort, but he was silently crying as spoke, the strive to survive ebbing away into the realisation that _they were the only ones up here_. They were the only ones left. Their homes, their town, Aobajousai, had been completely levelled to nothing more than ruins and fires and calamity. 

Sometimes, people said there was nothing more beautiful than nature reclaiming itself. Oikawa questioned how they could ever look upon a scene like this and find beauty. There was nothing but spoils. Everything reduced to rubble. Smoke rising to paint the landscape grey, interrupted with splotches of white from buildings that had not yet been marred, of orange from raging fires when gas pipes exploded or water from hydrants sprayed into electrical outputs. 

“We- We aren’t going to make it, are we...?” It was Kunimi who spoke, his head in Kindaichi’s lap as he nibbled at his knuckles in a way of trying desperately to cope, but it wasn’t working.

“Kunimi-chan... We’re safe here! We’re s-safe!” Kunimi screwed up his eyes as he held back a cry, raising his voice, if only slightly.

“We’re not! We’re all alone and we have _no_ idea how to survive this kind of situation! We need food, we need drinking water, we need _supplies_ to last until we can be rescued! That’s if they even send anyone for us. They probably think this entire region has been wiped out.” Oikawa bit his lip. He knew it was true. He and Kunimi were the smartest ones here. They had both gotten it figured out long before Kunimi even spoke his concerns. 

“B-but..” All eyes turned to Yahaba. He seemed to shrink in on himself before offering a weak, wavering smile.

“At least we’re together, right? E-even if we don’t make it... We’re together.” The grief in his voice weighed down the heaviness of his statement, drowning it in nothing but sorrow. Oikawa was quick to realise, that whilst he had his best friend in his arms, whilst Kindaichi had his best friend in his lap, whilst Matsukawa had his best friend within sight, Yahaba did not. Watari was not here. He was not atop this mountain with them, safe from rubble and debris, safe from the aftershocks, safe from the tidal waves that would soon pour over their once perfect homes. Yahaba didn’t even have Kyoutani here, with whom he had started to form a friendship, and understanding. Quietly, voice croaking, he broke through the tense silence.

“Yeah. We’re together.” Hanamaki outstretched one arm, and slowly, the second year, the only second year remaining, walked over to him and collapsed into familiar arms. Asides from Kindaichi, they cried quietly, weeping for those they knew hadn’t made it, lamenting the potential loss of those whom they didn’t know the circumstances of, grieving for the homes they had left behind. Their friends, their families... They had no clue whether they were safe or alive, but it wasn’t harmless down there, and none of them could risk leaving the mountain with the threat of a tsunami lurking. The rushing waters had already claimed so many lives when they struck with unprecedented fury the last time. This time around, none of them were going to underestimate the water.

“Go-... Up-... Under there-...” The faint voice had them instantly perk up. They recognised that. They _knew_ that voice. Matsukawa scrambled to his feet and paused at the very top of the stairs. 

“ _Coach! WATARI!_ ” He disappeared from the crescent of the hill as he bounded down the stairs, towards the two that were coming up. Whilst they’d heard their coach’s voice and presumed someone was with him, hearing that it was _Watari_ , it fuelled them with an energy they didn’t know they still had within them. 

With the exception of Oikawa and Iwaizumi, the team bundled towards their temporarily lost member and huddled him tightly. He laughed, making sure the bundle in his arms wasn’t crushed between them. Coach Mizoguchi was pat on the back with welcome or hugged too, which startled him to say the least, but then he remembered that they were just teenagers, just children, and this was a traumatic experience. He was the adult here, the one they needed to rely on, to get them through. 

“G-guys~! Easy! You’re gonna squash the stuff!”

“Stuff?” They drew away, to observe the bundle Watari held. A store bag, filled to the brim with tins and water bottles and food that would last at least three days. There were a couple of treats in there too, for the closer mealtimes. Mizoguchi carried a bag of the same brand and store, but it was full with medical supplies that looked like they had been haphazardly swept off the shelf in desperation.

“Sorry we left you so long. Watari came into the teachers’ lounge as the alarm sounded, and immediately after, we started coming here.”

“Mhm-Hm~! But then I said about how we might be stranded and need supplies, so we stopped at the closest shop.” A haunting look lingered in Watari’s eyes, like he’d seen something that nobody should ever be exposed to, and Mizoguchi frowned with guilt, pulling the libero into his side.

“The store owner and customers hadn’t survived. We grabbed the most of what we thought important and then, well, you know the rest.” They boys exhaled in relief, reunited, but then all that relief was stolen with a chill. The earth rumbled. Oikawa screeched from the top of the hill.

“Aftershock! Get up here!” Rushing, they just managed to reach the plateau and hit the deck before a strong aftershock rippled through the terrain. It shook with the force of another earthquake, nothing on the scale that it had been before, but enough to scare them once more. Even when it had stopped, they stayed still in their mass of a huddle. Centred at the middle, Oikawa had _just_ been bringing Iwaizumi back to some sentiment of normality, but then the eldest boy screamed and buried himself in Oikawa’s shoulder once more. He hugged just a little tighter, hoping his strong, warm hold would provide the comfort his words could not.

“... It’s over... I think...” Kunimi sounded unsure, but the earth had halted in its juddering, so they presumed he was correct. For a few seconds, nobody dared move. They clung to each other in desperation. Then; starting with Mizoguchi, they peeled away like petals from the lotus flower they had formed in their clump. 

“That must have been around a 5 on the Richter... That original earthquake... It must have been around the full 10...” Kindaichi sat straight up, looking over the flattened landscape, scattered with debris, feeling like he had been punched in the chest and stomach simultaneously. 

“Does that mean we’re the only ones alive...?” Mizoguchi hesitated. They boys were all looking at him, seeking the answers from the only adult, the coach who had guided them through so much before. But never a natural disaster. He felt his throat go dry.

“I don’t know, Kindaichi. I honestly don’t know.”


	2. As long as we're together.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tsunami hits and pocky is serious business.

Just as Oikawa and Kunimi had instantly suspected, a tsunami had billowed on the ocean, heading straight towards Sendai at a speed of 500MPH. Approaching the shallower water, it slowed at the front, the faster waves behind catching up and surging the crest upwards in height until it reached roughly 50 meters. The wall of water roared as it rolled onto land, sweeping any debris to the front of the wave like a spearhead, armed with everyday objects and broken homes to use as weapons. The first warning the boys had was when they heard something they thought was a rescue vehicle.

“Listen! Is that... A helicopter?” Hanamaki hopefully scanned the skies, for any sign of military help of aid rescuers. Yahaba huffed lightly.

“It sounds more like a train.” 

“It sounds like... A wave.” Having _finally_ calmed down and overcome his petrifying phobia, Iwaizumi was gazing out towards the horizon, in the direction of the pacific ocean. A dark grey line appeared where the sky met the land, and as it came closer and closer, rising up in height, Iwaizumi instantly knew what he was. 

The tsunami was encroaching, but there was nowhere they could go. They could only pray that the tsunami, and the waves that followed it, did not reach their safe evacuation area. Nobody else had come forth yet. No living beings had come up those stairs. They couldn’t hear, couldn’t see, any signs of live other than themselves. 

With the threat of the wave looming, they were losing hope of ever seeing Kyoutani again. Yahaba couldn’t reach him though text either, the entire cellphone network crashed.

“Just stay calm. From this point on, what happens, happens. There’s nothing else we can do.” A tense stillness grasped them until Watari reached into the bag at his feet and pulled something out.

“So, seeing as we may be about to die, does anyone else want a chocolate bar?” Despite the situation, Matsukawa couldn’t hold back an amused chuckle. He reached out and took the chocolate bar offered towards him, unwrapping it slowly. Hanamaki took his example, but neither of them bit into it until everyone had accepted a bar and unwrapped it all the same. With hilarity in his voice, Matsukawa raised his chocolate bar like he was making a cheers.

“If we don’t make it through, then this is best last meal _ever_. To us!”

“To us!”, they echoed, as if the seriousness of the situation had forced them to give up, to remain jovial in their potential last few minutes. They were terrified, but they were together. And that was enough. Subconsciously, nibbling on their chocolate bars, the shuffled in closer as the wave approached, seeming getting faster with every meter it travelled. 

The truth was that the wave was slowing as it picked up debris and hit raised terrain that, at the very least, prevented it from gaining speed. It was only due to perception that it appeared to rush towards them, as if it was hunting for their blood, stalking out the last living prey to wipe clean this land. Depressingly, Iwaizumi questioned how many bodies were already swept up in the wave. 

“Brace yourselves!” Mizoguchi extended his arms out as far as he could, pulling the team together like he could hold them collectively even if they were taken by the ocean. They mimicked him, arms entangling around warm, living bodies and squeezing them tightly together. The roar of the wave deafening, they closed their eyes and hoped. 

And hoped.

And hoped.

And opened their eyes. The tsunami reached halfway up their evacuation point. Breaths of relief and hearty, nervous laughter echoed all round. Then there was a vaguely human shape floating past on the surface. A woman. A child. An old man. A dog. A car with a crushed roof, but cries coming from within. Their relief disintegrated into horror and they quickly tore their gazes away to look at the grass beneath their feet instead. Kindaichi grit his teeth and stood.

“Aren’t we going to _do_ something!?” 

“There’s nothing we **can** do! By the time we got that far down The Hill, the car would have gone! The next wave, higher and stronger, would be coming in! If you got caught in it, you’d be ripped away in the torrents and probably die! Is that what you want, Kindaichi?!” None of them expected Iwaizumi to blow up on him. He was usually calm with everyone except Oikawa, he would _never_ snap at the first years. But these were not normal circumstances, and he spoke the truth, no matter how harsh it seemed. Weakly, Oikawa reached up and tugged on Iwaizumi’s sleeve.

“Sit down, Iwa-chan...” His teeth grit and his eyes watered, the green burning hazel as he stared Kindaichi in the eye defiantly. 

“How... How could you risk your life for _strangers_ and leave us to grieve you once you’ve _GONE_?!” 

“Iwa- Hajime! Sit down, right now!” Oikawa tugged harder, almost pulling Iwaizumi off balance. Hanging his head low, Iwaizumi stepped aside. His shoulders shook, but he extended one arm outwards as if to grace the path Kindaichi could take.

“I won’t stop you, if you’re that desperate to die.” Kindaichi slowly sat back down. He picked at the grass solemnly, until a smaller, softer hand weaved its way into his grip, fingers interlocking. He glanced to the side and Kunimi gently smiled as he squeezed the hand. Squeezing back, Kindaichi moved closer to him. Then, Iwaizumi moved down too, kneeling in front of him. He cupped the first years face by his cheeks, touch gentle and tender as if he feared breaking the younger boy.

“I’m sorry.” The apology in his words was not as sincere as the apology in his eyes. Guilt and regret swum in his eyes.

“It’s okay, Senpai. I wasn’t thinking straight. You- You’re completely right.” Iwaizumi swallowed, nodding remorsefully.

“I saw it happen.” His voice was quiet, barely a hoarse whisper above the waters rushing past. But it stole all the attention, the team turning to Iwaizumi as soon as the words left his mouth, wide eyed and horrified for his sake. Oikawa’s frown deepened and he leaned against his best friend supportively.

“I saw- My dad, he-... The _idiot_... We were- We were sort of safe. We hadn’t made it to the evacuation point, but- but we managed to find somewhere just high enough... A roof floated past, with- with a family on it. Three kids. Their parents, they- they screamed for someone- anyone- to save their children. Dad, he-...” Iwaizumi looked down at the ground, pulling his hands away from Kindaichi’s face to wrap around his stomach like he was going to be sick, biting into his bottom lip. Oikawa leant against him a little harder, reassuring him.

“He jumped in. Swam towards them. Got sucked under by the current. We- We had to identify his body d-during the rescue efforts.” It was like suckerpunch to the chest. Matsukawa and Hanamaki knew he had lost his father sometime during that year, but they’d had no idea it was to the tsunami. They had no idea he’d _watched_ his father die. 

A muted bang caught their attention and they turned their heads towards where the school had once been. A tanker boat, picked up by the tsunami as it had roared onto the coastline, had scraped along the bottom of the rubble and capsized, caught onto something as the water tried to drag it further towards their position. The metal screeched as it was being ripped and torn, and in the blink of an eye, the bow of the boat collapsed into the waters. 

The tanker leaked oil into the tsunami, the multicolour slick sticking to debris and painting the darkened waters with midnight rainbows. 

“... If that catches fire... The oil is heading straight for here!” 

“What!?” They watched in horror as a burning vehicle was swathed in a furious roar of flames as soon as the oil started to feed it, coating it with hydrophobic fuel. And it was heading directly towards The Hill in the flow of the tsunami. The fire trailed along the spreading tendrils of oil, riding the surface of the ocean. They were sitting on grass. There were trees and bushes leading up to their plateau. If the fire caught on, they would be victims to the same disaster that had annihilated their town.

“Bad things come in threes, I guess.”

“So if we survive this, we’re good?”

“Unless there’s another three, yeah, we’re good.” The held their breathes in anticipation as the oil drew closer... And closer... And closer... 

Then receded.

“W-What?” Everything suddenly seemed to star drawing backwards, pulled in the direction of the ocean. The boys were stunned, and Mizoguchi couldn’t help but breathe out in relief. He’d been momentarily terrified of those flames reaching them, burning them to a crisp where the waters couldn’t reach. He’d been horrified at the thought of these boys - _his_ boys – making it this far only to perish, from something that he couldn’t protect them from. 

“It’s okay. The waters are going back out now. By the time the next one hits, the fire should have burned itself out.” 

“Thank fuck...” Breathing heavily and laughing nervously, they started talking. They threw themselves into quiet, careful conversation; trying to distract themselves from the situation in this small period of peace they had been granted. Peace might have been too strong of a word, Mizoguchi corrected himself, but the life-threatening danger had crept away, if only for an instance. It was like getting away with not doing homework, only to realise a forgotten assignment was due at the end of the day.

“Coach.” He lifted his head to look at Kunimi, noticing the subtle shake of his hands, the cold sweat of panic sticking his fringe to his forehead. Under normal circumstances, during practice, he’d shout at this student – this _child_ \- an awful lot. It was only because he could see the potential locked behind the lethargy. The current situation was a different from that as night was from day. He offered a sympathetic smile, making sure his voice was soft and understanding.

“What is it, Kunimi?”

“We- Watari and I looked through the supplies. There- There’s enough for all of us for approximately four days, but- But only if we ration it. And, umm, Kindaichi has a bad cut on his head that needs medical attention.” He blinked, highly impressed at how efficient Kunimi was being. He snapped back to attention when he realised he was being looked at expectantly.

“Right, yes. I’ll treat that immediately. Kindaichi, come here! Thank you for your hard work, Kunimi. Sit down and try not to panic, okay?” With a nod, Kunimi slunk away to sit down next to Watari again, and the empty spot Kindaichi had just sprung up from. Mizoguchi pat the ground in front of him and Kindaichi obediently sat in seizen, legs tucked under his body. Due to his height, Mizoguchi had to kneel himself as he searched for a bump or bruising around the pretty bad cut on Kindaichi’s hairline. Blood that had dripped down to coat his face had dried and started to crack, giving the boy a pitifully beaten appearance. 

“Where did you get this?” He pulled a gauze from the bag of medical supplies, along with a bottle of liquid antiseptic. 

“As we were trying to get out the school. The doorframe gave way just as I was walking out.” Dabbing the gauze with the antiseptic, Mizoguchi paused before putting it in place.

“This is going to sting. Which exit did you use?”

“The one in the- _ah!_ \- in the canteen. All the others we tried were blocked.” Immediately after pulling away, he tried to touch the gauze. His hand was gently slapped away by the coach.

“Don’t touch it. How on earth did you get to the canteen doors?”

“I- I don’t know. Everything inside was so messed up, it was like a maze... I’m still surprised we managed to get out seconds before it-...” He cut himself of short, swallowing with an expression like he had just been given bitter medicine.

“You don’t have to say it, Kindaichi.” He nodded, sure that his face a mix between thankful and ashamed that he was so shaken, so scared by _words_. He shuffled around to rejoin the group, listening in to a small debate about pocky flavours. The team were ultimately trying to distract themselves, but they were all too aware of the grim situation, and it showed in how quiet their voices were, how timid the conversation topic was. Any debate, no matter whom it was between or how trivial the topic, turned into a warzone with this team. Swear words, underhand insults, sly comments, and even physical manhandling. 

There was none of that. Just brittle smiles and fragile hopes as they sat in a co-ordinated bundle. 

All of them were making contact with another, whether it was Hanamaki’s hand resting on Matsukawa’s knee, or Oikawa leaning his whole body against Iwaizumi, or Yahaba and Watari sitting back to back. As soon as Kindaichi wriggled his way in between Kunimi and Hanamaki, he found a head in his lap and a loose arm slung over his shoulders. He noted that as soon as Kunimi had lain down, his legs had sprawled across Iwaizumi’s lap and the oldest was soothingly running a hand up and down without even breaking his sentence. In some shape or form, Seijou essentially formed a circle.

“-just saying that raspberry has a sweeter flavour, but less sharp than strawberry.”

“Some of us like that sharp taste. Besides, you like the Matcha ones best, and they’re more bitter than lemon.”

“Still not sharp. The bitterness builds slowly.”

“Well, I, for one, find classic chocolate to be the best.”

“Those are great in the giant size, but the best original size would have to be... Five fusion berry.” Matsukawa smirked as Oikawa jolted up in place.

“You’ve been to Goka?!”

“Yup~. My grandmother took me there three years ago.” Oikawa huffed as he slumped back against Iwaizumi. His eyes swept over the landscape through a space between Hanamaki and Matsukawa.

“What I wouldn’t give to be there right now...” There was an uneasy pause. Yahaba followed the glance out towards the horizon.

“I’m sure... If it’s this bad here, they’ve got it too.” 

“Y-Yeah... How far do you think it’s stretched?” They watched as the grey line on the horizon reappeared. It wasn’t as dark a grey as before, but as it approached, they could see it was faster, they could see it was larger. A dejected sigh escaped them.

“Here we go again.” Watching the hopelessness that cast itself over the team, Mizoguchi felt guilt twist in his gut. He couldn’t protect them. He couldn’t save them. There was nothing he could do to _stop_ the oncoming wave of destruction. There wasn’t anything he could think to say to give them hope either. The only option was to avoid. He cast his eye to the sky, turning ashen with soot and the already light cloud cover.

“I know it’s early, but why don’t we all get some sleep whilst this is still happening? We don’t want to risk missing rescue operations when the aftershocks and tsunami finally settle.” The team glanced at each other in silent discussion, before Oikawa nodded in Mizoguchi’s direction. He turned back to his team with a fake cheery grin, clapping his hands and folding them together in a somewhat encouraging pose. The sense of normality put them at ease.

“It might not be the most comfortable, but as long as we huddle up, we should be warm and cosy!” Hanamaki and Matsukawa snorted in unison, rolling their eyes in opposite directions.

“Gay.”

“Mad gay.”

“Says the two I found canoodling in the equipment cupboard.” Matsukawa looked away with a guilty smirk whilst Hanamaki snickered, but Kindaichi noticed the way they squeezed their hands together a little tighter. Iwaizumi huffed and took the initiative to move into a lying down position, using Kunimi, whom had already started to drift on Kindaichi’s lap, as a pillow. His cheek pressed flat against Kunimi’s hip, arms crossed with his elbow partially propping him up. Kindaichi eased Kunimi’s head up and wriggled around until he was flying flat on his back, placing his best friends head back down on his stomach. 

“Here.” A third year blazer was held out to him and he blinked as he took it.

“Umm, th-thanks, Hanamaki-Senpai.”

“Fold it up under your head, or you’ll get neck problems.” He nodded, rolling the blazer up and placing it underneath his head. It was soft, and it smelt familiar, easing him off into a dreamless doze. Hanamaki leaned against Matsukawa and dropped his voice to a whisper, watching Watari’s breathing even out as he lay on his stomach, draped across Yahaba like they were hugging. No-one would judge them for it, needing comfort and warmth in such unforgiving and traumatic circumstances. It wasn’t like the team would judge them anyways. Most of them were gay or bi or pan anyways. 

“Looks like they were all tired.”

“Mhm. Even Captain’s gone before us.” Oikawa breathed loudly, arms clinging around Iwaizumi’s waist with the rest of him tucked up in a little ball. His mouth hung open, sure to develop into snoring. Still, even that was preferable to the occasional rumble of the earth beneath their feet, or the water rushing by. 

“Think we should try too?”

“You go first. I think one of should stay on guard, just in case anything happens.”

“Happens?”

“Yeah, like nightmares, or a miraculous rescue, or someone we know turns up...” Hanamaki frowned, squeezing their hands together a bit tighter.

“Kyoutani’s tough. If- If he made it out the building, he’s probably _surfing_ to safety.” Matsukawa wasn’t proud of the reluctant snort-laugh that escaped him, the imagery provoking a humorous response even though his eyes were watering at the thought of their missing member, someone in this mess and most likely dead. A month or so ago, none of them would really have cared, or at least not to this extent. But since their Interhigh game against Karasuno, Kyoutani had become a part of their in-group, the gruff kind of friend they could trust.

“Shut up, ‘Hiro~. You’re a nightmare~.” Hanamaki grinned and gave a thumbs up.

“Well, if you’re not going to sleep, at least be my bed.”

“Gladly.” With a little rearranging, Matsukawa was sitting with his legs out straight in front of him, almost kicking Oikawa, and Hanamaki was happily lying on him with his arms around Matsukawa’s waist and ear pressed to his chest. Subconsciously, Matsukawa stroked through his hair until Hanamaki was just as deeply asleep as the others. He sighed, breath condensing in the cold air. 

Looking up at the clouds above, nothing seemed out of the ordinary except for the low hanging soot. He could almost pretend he was sitting on a river bank, water rapids in the river, or an approaching waterfall in the forest. He could pretend everything was okay, that the people surrounding him were here by choice, passing out after an eventful evening by the campfire. 

“Yeah right...” His whisper to the breeze was lost within the numbing silence. There was no hiding the screams of cries from the scene around him, from those that hadn’t made it to the evacuation point. No matter how faint, when he heard the dying calls of someone who’d survived the initial megaquake and tsunami, he felt it stab right into his heart.

Because there was nothing he could do. No help he could give. He was just a scared teenage boy hoping his friends survived this or he’d be left with no-one. He had no doubt that his family were dead. His mother was frail and sickly, too weak to survive the battering waves if she hadn’t been crushed by their own home. His dad worked on the top floor of an old concrete building. It was one of the only structures in Miyagi that wasn’t earthquake proof, yet had miraculously survived the 2011 quake. This time around, Matsukawa’s gut feeling told him it hadn’t held out.

He choked out a sob, his shaking hand flying to his mouth to cover it, eyes squeezing shut as if he had any chance of holding back the saltwater that already poured down his cheeks. Silently, alone, he cried.


	3. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Safe, for now.

Dawn bought upon the challenge of not being able to see. By this point, the rest of the team had stirred, either from nightmares or discomfort. Kindaichi had been the first other than Matsukawa to wake, but not voluntarily. The third year had shaken him awake every half hour or so, just in case of concussion. The doorframe had hit him hard enough to cause injury, so there was no doubt it could also have caused concussion. The constant waking up and drifting back off made him feel more tired than before, but it was hard to sleep when he was so _unfortunately_ aware of everything going on around The Hill.

Iwaizumi’s watch read 4:21am. The earthquake had struck at 11:42am the previous day. That was 16 and a half hours. The waters had receded; no tsunamis had been sighted for the last 3 hours. Mizoguchi said they still had to be safe, still had to stay here just in case, but the team silently agreed that any tsunamis being produced were too small to reach Aobajousai. They wondered how far inland the wave had struck. Had it reached Shiratorizawa? Had it reached Karasuno? Perhaps it had even reached as far inland as Dateko. 

“It’s not fair! Why should we be the only ones to go through this!?” Oikawa promptly threw a tantrum when Watari pointed out the wave had already been much weaker than the quake _could_ have produced when it reached them.

“Oikawa! Would you really wish this on even your greatest enemy?!”

“If it were Ushiwaka, I would!” A fist connected to his cheek, sending Oikawa to the ground. Furiously, Iwaizumi stood over him, face contorted with anger and _seething_ , fist clenched and shaking and chest heaving. His broad shoulders were tense and drawn upwards, almost touching his grit teeth, jaw tense.

“Never... **NEVER!** Wish this upon _anyone!_ Not a stranger, not your greatest enemy, not someone you hate with all your passion! If you dare say anything like that again, I’ll punch you!” Oikawa rubbed sorely at his cheek, one eye closed. At the very least, he appeared to regret what he’d said, even if he wasn’t going to apologise for it.

“You just did...” He sat back up, eyes meeting with Iwaizumi’s.

“I won’t say it again. I promise.” The Ace nodded, turning his back on Oikawa to go back to the supply stock. He, Yahaba, and Kunimi were sorting it out into rations. 

“Are you okay?” Yahaba’s worry was palpable, the corners of his lips pulled into a frown and eyebrows furrowing. Iwaizumi sighed before patting the second year on the shoulder.

“Thanks for the concern, but yes. Everything’s under control. Or, as under control as it can be in these conditions.” They tried not to look out across the landscape. The tried not to look down the hillside. The last time someone had done that, it had been Hanamaki and he’d promptly thrown up. 

Amongst the debris that scattered the bottom 7/8ths of The Hill, there were corpses. Bloody, beaten, broken carcasses. Some of them hadn’t even appeared human. As soon as Mizoguchi had pulled him away from the edge and gazed down himself, he forbid any of them from looking down the slope. It wasn’t an easily achievable command, but the team wanted to obey. Their own apprehension was making it very possibly at the moment.

“I’m going for a walk. I want all of you to stay here, understand?”

“C-Coach?” Mizoguchi licked his dry lips with a small pang of guilt, but buried it beneath the sense of duty.

“If we leave those bodies there, they’ll rot and infect. We can’t risk catching a sickness, especially with such little resource. Promise me you’ll all stay here.” They echoed out a half-hearted ‘Osu’, watching his back disappear as he started walking down the steps. An uneasy, unnatural silence descended on the group, heave and thick. Slowly, from where he had been lying in the grass, Watari sat up.

“I can’t stand this... Not knowing if my family is okay... I have to go and look for them.” 

“Watachin, no! We promised Coach we’d stay here!”

“I know, but- But my parents... And what about the twins? They’re only 7, they must be terrified!” Watari punctuated his statement by standing up. His words reverberated in the air until Kindaichi nervously spoke, his voice unsteady and quavering.

“It- It’s not safe... What good could you do if- if you died too?”

“The tsunami is gone, it’s perfectly safe!” As if purposely trying to contradict him, the ground shook and rumbled and awoke beneath their feet. He lost footing and fell back onto his bottom, waiting until the shaking stopped. It had probably been around a magnitude 3. Watari grit his teeth and tried not to cry out in defeat at being rendered helpless. There was no way he could go looking for his parents or younger brothers until the aftershocks had fully subsided. Hanamaki cupped his hands around his mouth in the direction of the stairs.

“Coach!” 

“I’m okay!” The faint response had them collectively sag in relief. Matsukawa sighed as he stretched over to Watari, squeezing his shoulder in a hopefully reassuring way.

“We can’t risk anything happening to us. When rescue arrives, they’ll save anyone who made it.”

“What if it’s too late? We can _hear_ them... We know they’re out there, we know they’re fighting for their lives. They could be trapped under wreckage and bleeding out, all alone...”

“I understand that. Really, I do. The reality is that my parents are most likely dead. Not knowing for certain is killing me, but staying here helps. Because you guys are alive and you’re here and you’re safe. Losing another one of us... We can’t go through that, Wata- Shinji. If all we have left is each other, then- then we need to stick together. Survivors will... Will come here. This is the evac point; this is where they’ll come.” With a sniffle, Watari wiped at his puffy, sore eyes and nodded.

“Okay.” He was given another squeeze to the shoulder before Matsukawa returned to his upright position. Still, the group were close together. It was cold in the chilly night, easing into the morning just before sunrise, and the air felt damp with dew. Hanamaki could barely see in the dark, but quickly came to realise it was probably heavy fog that prevented him seeing very far. He could feel Kindaichi shivering to his left, too stubborn or shy to move in closer and sap the warmth from anyone else. Maybe Hanamaki could somehow provoke him...

“S’cold...” 

“I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels that way, Makki. Let’s be like penguins! They group together for warmth and rotate position so everyone gets a chance at the centre!” Iwaizumi snorted at Oikawa’s apparent enthusiasm for changing species, but didn’t say anything else on the matter. Currently, he was using a marker pen from his blazer to write names on the bottles of store-brought water. There was enough for two bottles each. That wouldn’t be enough to keep them hydrated. It would be just enough to keep them alive, if help arrived within the week. 

Kunimi was sorting through the food bag, separating the tins into things that needed to be cooked and things that could be eaten raw. At the same time, he organised the non-tinned food in order of expiration date. Yahaba was in soul control of the other bag, taking a stock count of the medical items they had. Luckily, he was organised enough that he always carried a small notebook and pen in his blazer breast pocket. It proved infallible under these state of affairs, jotting down what they could use, what was (optimistically) unnecessary, and the small amount they had already used to treat Kindaichi’s cut.

Kindaichi, whom was now sandwiched in the middle of his Senpai, looking extremely uncomfortable. Oikawa had no regards for personal space, sitting in his lap with his hair right in poor Kindaichi’s face, practically smothering him. Hanamaki sat behind the first year, pulling him backwards into his chest and resting his chin on Kindaichi’s shoulder as he casually spoke to Matsukawa, whom had his back to the boy in the centre but was leaning up against him all the same. Watari was somewhat respectful, clinging more to Oikawa who was _always_ looking for affection and contact. The libero still had a warm hand resting indifferently on Kindaichi’s knee. 

“Oi. As funny as you idiots think it is, the kid’s about to combust. Give him room to breathe.”

“We’re _cold_ , Iwa-chan. It’s called survival technique.”

“It- It is rather chilly, Senpai.” Yahaba sheepishly shrugged at Iwaizumi as he sighed. He waved a hand in dismissal and the secondary setter took no hesitation in going over the group and squeezing his way between Watari and Oikawa. Kunimi glanced at Iwaizumi as if to ask for permission.

“Go on. I’ll finish this off.”

“Thank you.”

“Iwa-chan is such a mum~!” Oikawa definitely deserved the chocolate bar that struck the back of his head. There were a few snickers before it descended into silence. Huddled together, they weren’t shivering as much, but the damp still clung to their clothes and skin.

“You know... It’s meant to be dryer after an earthquake. How’s it so damp today?”

“I guess the tsunami brought in enough water to make it foggy.”

“That or the fact we’re up quite high. It’s much cooler up here than down there.” With a deep sigh from Matsukawa, they devolved into silence. The sun rose from behind the mountains stretched in the distance, bathing the destroyed land beneath it in a warm golden light. It seemed ironic. It seemed cruel.

Wave after wave of aftershocks hit them, but they seemed less spaced together and much weaker. Any other day, someone would have commented with _“That was a strong one!”_ , but Seijou had been through hell. The slight trembles of the earth paled in comparison, so much so that nobody even braced throughout it anymore. They stiffened when it started, fearful that it would get stronger, that it would happen again. That fear subsided into nonchalance when it remained at small tremours.

Iwaizumi’s watch displayed that it was midday. They hadn’t seen their coach since he disappeared around 5 to clear bodies away from their location. Finally, he came crawling back with sweat on his brow and exhaustion tugging his features. 

He’d taken off his jacket and tied it around his waist as the temperature started to rise, noticing the school blazers and cardigans shrugged off in a pile at the side, the volleyball team – children – in a spread out slump. There were empty snack boxes around them that had once contained fruit, but it wouldn’t have lasted long out of a fridge anyways. Their eyes widened when he stepped towards their group.

“... What?”

“Coach, your shirt...” He looked down, tugging his once-white t-shirt out in front of him. Not only was it sweaty and starting to discolour, but splotches of blood painted it like freckles from the fresh corpses he had removed.

“Ah. Don’t worry, it’s not mine.” The statement was met with further horrified looks. Mizoguchi guiltily removed his t-shirt, replacing it with his jacket and zipping it up. Just as the zip reached the top, he felt the ground rumble beneath his feet, faintly but still there. It was accompanied by a distant roar. Like a train. The last time they had heard that sound...

“A-Another tsunami?!” Oikawa grabbed onto Iwaizumi with an anxious expression. The Ace grunted, but made no move to shrug him off, riddled with his own apprehension. His heart thudded in his chest, his hands shook and pupils dilated, but he grit his teeth and forced himself to hold it together. He was the vice-captain. He had to lead them through it, do or die, with no exceptions.

“Everybody get closer. We’re all in this together.” There was no Hanamaki taking the piss and screeching out the high school musical song. There was no Matsukawa laughing and filming it as Iwaizumi reacted to that. There was no teammates shaking their head disapprovingly, or laughing at them, or even joining in. There was silent obedience. 

The thunder of the approaching tsunami got louder. And louder. Much too quickly than it should have. Like it surpassed crawling over the land and the debris, like it was slicing through the air with ease. Underneath the noise of the approaching tsunami, there was a soft beating, similar to a metronome. Curiously, Kunimi raised his head.

“A- A helicopter! It’s a helicopter!” The boys leapt up, shouting and waving their arms and jumping and _screaming_ for help, trying to attract the helicopter to let rescuers know they were **_alive_**. The helicopter turned to the side. Emblazoned on the metal exterior was the logo for NHK. It was a media helicopter, recording material for the news night. The helicopter hovered in one place for a moment, before it turned and flew off back in the direction it had come. 

“Do you think it saw us?” There was faint anticipation in Watari’s tone, a minor shred of optimism that was dangerous to possess in the aftermath of what they’d been through. Yahaba softly squeezed his shoulder, silently letting him know that the hope was too fragile to cling to. Shoulders slumped, legs gave way, and finally, _finally_ , the barriers broke. 

It wounded Mizoguchi to see the teens break into sobs and cries, descended towards choked wails and screams of torment, but he knew they had been holding it in too long. They had been fighting to stay strong all this time, and now it seemed like their lifeline had been shattered. 

A potential rescuer had flown near to their location, and it had ignored them. It had paid no notice to the trapped survivors, losing their will to fight and live, in favour of recording material for the news that evening. Something people would watch and mutter _“how horrible”_ under their breaths before continuing on with their own lives. Aobajousai had been abandoned to their fate.


	4. It could be the ending...

Day 5. They were running out of food. They were running out of water. Most of the time, they spent with their backs on the grass and eyes to the sky, secretly waiting for the helicopter to return. Nobody said anything, but they all knew from the hard-set facial expressions that they were patiently grabbing onto the last thread of salvation. 

Out of nowhere, they heard a siren. It came from the flattened terrain down below, the ground where bodies had rot and stench rose up from, where death had stolen everything except these 8 boys and their Coach. If there was a siren, the first noise that had heard from anything but themselves in 3 days, then there was someone down there. Watari was the first to leap to his feet and bolt to the stairwell, eyes widening as he gasp, lighting up like a Christmas tree.

“It’s a rescue effort!” 

“Wh- What?!”

“We’re saved!”

“Wait, do they know we’re here then?” Their voices jumbled over each other in disbelief and excitement, words blabbered through relief so strong that they cried and shook, almost tripping over their own jelly-like limbs as they rushed forwards. An announcement came from the truck heading the rescue effort, a digger scoop on the front that shunted debris aside for the ambulances and search-and-rescue workers to follow through.

_“Please stay where you are. We will find you and assist. Please stay where you are. We will find you and assist.”_ The sentence was repeated over and over, loud enough to be broadcast from the train station to the evacuation point Seijou had occupied. They paid no heed to the words, racing past each other on the stairs in a rush of adrenaline and happiness. 

Having been the first to bound down the stairs, gifted with a small and lithe form, Watari was the first to stumble over broken planks of wood and slates of torn metal, squeezing between wrecked cars and pieces of ships brought inland by the wave. He flung himself towards a kindly rescue worker who had seen the boy’s incoming and opened her arms.

“ ** _Kyoutani!!!_** ” Yahaba pushed passed the rescue workers in their bright yellow hazard suits, fighting his way through to a familiar face who stood talking to a fireman. Kyoutani spun around on his heel at the sound of his name and his jaw dropped. There was a subtle spark in his eyes that he would deny if anyone noticed. 

He didn’t have time to say anything or react before tight arms were desperately wrapping around him and clinging to his torso like he was the only thing in the world. To his broken teammates who had thought him dead, he probably was. In all honesty, he had thought them dead too.

“You- You’re alive...” Yahaba pulled back from the hug, expression twisting into snotty, gross anger. He grabbed Kyoutani’s collar and shook him lightly. Not enough to convince anyone that he was actually furious.

“What about you?! We- We thought you were still in the school! How did you get out alive...?” Sheepishly, Kyoutani rubbed the back of his head.

“Bunked and went to a dog show in Murayama.”

“You went to Yamagata on a school day.” Kyoutani grumbled and nodded, knowing exactly what was coming next before Iwaizumi cuffed him round the back of the head.

“You idiot! At least call in sick, we had no idea you weren’t there!” He was pulled into a crushing hug that caught him off guard, almost wriggling and fighting back before he saw the crumbled remains of the school over Iwaizumi’s shoulder. It was nothing but concrete blocks that had been turned into shrapnel. There was no way anyone could have survived that, if they’d been trapped in there.

“... Sorry.” Iwaizumi didn’t let go. Yahaba didn’t let go. And Kyoutani suddenly found himself surrounding by the rest of the team, huddled around him like it had been _years_ , not days. 

But then, he could see the shadows on their gaunt and sunken faces, the hollow expression in their eyes, the way they jittered and flinched and trembled. They’d been through so much that he couldn’t understand, and reluctantly, the mad dog hugged back. 

One by one, the high-schoolers were pulled away from their reunion to have blankets wrapped around them and a bottle of water each, told that they would be taking back to a refuge site with a canteen for food. Together, just as they had been the whole time, they clambered into the bus that reversed, turned around, and starting driving them towards safety.

Away from Aobajousai. Away from their homes. Their dead families. Their destroyed lives. Away from everything that had made them into who they were in this very moment, the school where they had founded and built upon these amazing friendships. 

Before the bus made it all the way down the road that would bend around a smaller hill, blocking Seijou from view, they silently observed the broken landscape through tinted glass. Unconsciously, their hands found each other and squeezed in reassurance, in comfort.

“We have each other, right?”

“Right. And that’s all we need.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was so short, but a couple of you specifically requested Kyoutani's appearance!   
> This short was just to ease those concerns for now, but this story is far from over.


	5. ... But it's only just beginning.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've survived the worst of it.  
> Or so they think.

The journey had given them time to sleep; exhausted after everything they’d been through. Crammed onto the backseat, they were slumped together, some people spread over others laps, using each other as pillows, and never letting go. 

The only one awake was Kyoutani, sitting in a window seat and looking out the tinted windows. His hand clutched tightly onto Yahaba whom was next to him, his jaw grit together tightly as the passing scenery became less ‘Ground Zero’ and more... Normal.

Buildings were still cracked and there was thick sludge deposited on the ground from the shallow wash of a weakened tsunami, but it was still in one piece. Citizens walked around looking for their friends and family, but none of them seemed to be as distressed or emotionally wrought as those that stumbled around like zombies, following signposts towards temporary rescue effort camps or educational buildings that were serving as relief shelters. Kyoutani finally tore his eyes away as he caught sight of a young girl helping – presumably – her father hop along beside her, blood dripping from where his leg should have been. It was almost as tormenting as knowing that his team had completely lost everything.

“KyouKen-Chan?” He whipped his head round to Oikawa, who blinked at him owlishly from the window seat on the other side of the bus. He grunted to let Oikawa know he was awake, despite having clearly made eye contact. The heavy bags under Oikawa’s eyes creased as he smiled, too polite, too cautious for Kyoutani to believe this was the Captain he had once been instinctively wary of.

“Where are we...?” Reluctantly, Kyoutani checked out the window again. He lifted his eyes from the street where a little boy cried, all alone, and searched for a place name instead. He struck lucky when he caught sight of a roundabout sign.

“Just leaving Ougiminami. Depends which way we go at the roundabout.” Oikawa hummed thoughtfully, resting back against his seat and looking down at the head on his shoulder, softly stroking his hand through Iwaizumi’s hair as the boy cowered in his sleep.

“Could be Shinzen, Johzenji, or _Shiratori_.” The distaste was spat out bitterly, because if they were heading towards Shiratori, then the refuge there would be Shiratorizawa academy. Oikawa hated Ushijima enough anyways, he didn’t need to see that person whilst he was in a fragile state of mind, bordering on either crying or bursting out with anger at how _unfair_ it was, that they had lost everything and nobody else had. 

Suddenly, slowly, the bus crawled to a halt. Oikawa tilted his head in confusion before daring to look out the window, fearing he would see laughing faces and happy people, ignorant of the disaster that had shaken Seijou’s world. He didn’t see any of that. He saw crowds heading in a single direction, brought to a halt and staring forwards with dead eyes, no light of hope or desire to continue living. Carefully, trying not to disturb those closest to the bus, Oikawa slid open a window and peered out. His eyes widened with horror, that clouded into sympathy.

Up ahead, a tall business building had toppled over and blocked the road, concrete and tarmac shattered into cobweb patterns. People were clambering over, but process was slow. The crowd shuffled forwards, but the bus could go no further. Oikawa quickly realised that from this point on, their little gathering would have to walk. With a deep exhale, he clapped his hands. Kindaichi startled awake with a jolt that disturbed Kunimi, who drew himself into a tighter ball, his heels moving to dig into Matsukawa’s stomach. 

“Oop, sorry Kindaichi!” The first year was still clutching at his chest after the terrifying wake-up, breathing out slowly until he looked up at Oikawa with a strained smile.

“It’s okay.” Kunimi groaned again before lifting his head and blearily blinking. He moved to sit up, dragging his limbs from Matsukawa which woke him in turn. Kyoutani shook Yahaba’s shoulder, watching as he bobbed his head tiredly before turning to glare at Kyoutani. Before the second year could say anything though, Oikawa spoke.

“Sorry for waking you, but we need to walk now. The path ahead is blocked and there’s no way traffic can get through. Once Watacchin, Hanamaki and Iwa-Chan are up, we’ll get going.” Dutifully, Yahaba pat Watari’s shoulder continuously until he stirred, whilst Matsukawa took great delight in poking Hanamaki in the ribs so that he awoke with a squeal.

“Issei, you cockhat!” He snickered at the half-hearted glare before brushing his fingers over the ticklish spot again. Hanamaki jerked away from the touch and grabbed Matsukawa’s wrist, moving in to jab his fingers against the blockers side. Their playful wriggling devolved into a friendly tussle that had the two of them falling off the bus seat with a shriek, Iwaizumi bolting up and almost hitting his head on the ceiling as he scrambled away from whatever had made the noise the millisecond he had awoken.

“Easy, Iwa-chan, easy! It’s just Makki and Mattsun...” Deep gulps of panicked breaths slowly returned to normal, his fearful expression easing up into a light apprehension. He slid back into the seat as if the action of doing so would erase the fact he had almost bolted, completely on impulse. 

“Y-yeah. I knew that.” Oikawa pat his best friends back comfortingly.

“Just a quick update for the sleepyheads~. We’re walking from here thanks to a destroyed road. As long as we follow the signs to Ougiminami high school, we’ll know we’re heading in the right direction.”

“Ougiminami? We’re that far already?” Yahaba tilted his head to the side before Kyoutani grunted, chin in palm as he stared out the window at people walking past. He didn’t want to see any more injuries like before, but these people had courage to continue on, soldiers in the face of adversity. They were inspiring.

“You were asleep since we left Aobajousai.” Grimacing, he cricked his neck and stood to stretch, avoiding the third years on the floor who were sitting in seizen after finishing their battle. Their heads hung low in guilt at accidentally terrifying one of their friends, unfortunately the one who was most sensitive in this situation. Iwaizumi appeared to have calmed, talking to Kunimi just as he would have any other day, but his hands still shook and his face was pallid. His eyes darted around, like he was evaluating every movement and gesture, expectant of another terrorizing earthquake. 

“Iwa-chan! Take front with me!” Like a breeze of normality had swept over them, Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and gave Oikawa a deadpan gaze.

“Who says you’re suited to take the front? This isn’t a game, Kusokawa. Matsukawa, take front with me, Kyoutani, Hanamaki, I want you taking back in case we get attacked from behind. First years, in the centre. Oikawa, go between them and the back, Yahaba and Watari, either side of them. We’ll travel in that formation unless I deicide otherwise.”

“But Iwa-chan, I’m the captain!” Oikawa’s whine went unheard as the team obeyed Iwaizumi, listening to his wise words as the bus driver apologised and opened the doors. Politely, Iwaizumi assured him that it wasn’t his fault and they were thankful for being brought this far.

“Alright, let’s move out.” Carefully, they stepped onto the street, careful not to lose each other in the slowly moving crowd that barely gave them space to step off. They were starting to speed up now, the frontline having found the safest routes across the fallen building. Seijou shuffled along in their formation, insecurely holding onto the shirts of the person in front. They had lost so much already. They couldn’t bear losing each other. It was only as Hanamaki held a hand out to grab Kunimi before he was knocked over by a stranger that he realised they _were_ missing someone.

“W-Wait, where’s Coach? He wasn’t on the bus, was he?!” Eye snapped to Hanamaki, each with the same slight panic until Kyoutani heavily sighed.

“He stayed behind. Said something about helping identify bodies from the school. And... Seeing if Irihata-Sensei had somehow made it out." Oikawa guiltily bit his lip. He’d been so shrouded in relief at finding his team were okay, he’d completely forgotten to ask about, or check for their teaching advisor. The same guilt was written on everyone’s face and he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Now, now. I’m sure it was a psychological defence. We couldn’t deal with it at the time, so we ‘forgot’ until this moment here. All we can do is keep moving forwards and hope that Coach meets us at the shelter. Whether Irihata-sensei made it out or not.” There were nods of concurrence all around, despite the remorse. Slowly, they moved on, wrapped up in the crowd until they reached the fallen building. Taking a deep breath in preparation, Iwaizumi jumped up like he was about to perform a block, hooking his fingers around a concrete ledge. 

He hissed in pain as the uneven surface cut into his fingers, calluses and all. Matsukawa bent down and placed his hands, weaved together at the fingers, under one of Iwaizumi’s feet, giving him a push onto a protruding concrete block that was stable enough for him to stand on. He turned around to offer Matsukawa a hand up, Kindaichi giving him a foot up. Crouched down, the two third years leant over the edge to pull up the other members before giving them a shove up onto the easier bit to climb. They gathered at the top to wait for their leading members before heading back down the diagonal slope, towards the earth on the other side.

“C’mon Kindaichi, you’re the last.” Having been giving everyone else a foot up, Kindaichi stood alone on the side with the crowd. He fumbled his hands together nervously before bracing to jump, falsely practicing many times and faltering just before his feet left the ground.

“I- I can’t!”

“Kindaichi, you’re taller than Iwaizumi and jump higher than me. You can reach the ledge easily. We’ll pull you up from there.”

“I’m heavy!”

“You’re only slightly more than me, we can do it!” Closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath that burned his lungs, Kindaichi jumped, reaching skywards like it was his last hope. Iwaizumi and Matsukawa were able to grab him by an arm each, holding on tightly and using all their muscles to pull him up, the first year’s feet scrambling against the crumbled wall of the fallen building as he panicked to get a foothold.

“Kindaichi, stop flailing!” His heel jammed against a rock that jutted out and sent it back towards the ground. It wasn’t far, only about half his height, but Kindaichi panicked. He choked out a cry as he tried to gain his footing, not realising that his fretting was making it much harder for Iwaizumi and Matsukawa to pull him up.

“Kyoutani, get down here and help, for fucks sake!” From where he had been standing at the very top and trying to plot the safest way down, Kyoutani spun on foot and sprinted back down. He skid to a stop just before sliding over the edge of the platform and leant down, grabbing the back of Kindaichi’s shirt. All three of them together were able to haul him up to safety. Iwaizumi was ready to shout at him for not listening, and putting himself in danger, when he saw the way the kid trembled from his shoulders to his knees. Iwaizumi sighed. He placed a gentle hand on the shaking shoulder.

“You’re safe now. Come on, let’s keep moving.” Kindaichi nodded, fumbling his hands together in guilt as he silently rose and joined them in climbing up the diagonal slope. Kunimi instantly whacked him on the back of his arm, but for the first time, Kindaichi didn’t respond with _“What was THAT for?!”_. Because he knew what it was for. Slowly, he gave Kunimi a shaky smile that wouldn’t last long.

“Sorry I made you worry.” As the sun clipped over a building, reflecting on broken glass and fallen metal beams, they paused for a moment to shield their eyes before Oikawa took the first step forward. A new world was awaiting them, crushed and broken, but not flattened and destroyed. They had nowhere to return to, but everywhere to go. The few survivors from their town, they could nothing but drift endlessly like lost souls on the breeze, until they found somewhere to belong. For the moment, the only ‘place’ they belonged was with each other.

That was enough. For now, that was more than enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet you thought this was over with the rescue.  
> SURPRISE.


	6. The world may burn.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hot and tiring, and then fires rage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains graphic scenes of distress and descriptive injury.

The first complaint, expectedly, came from Oikawa.

“Iwa-chan, stop walking so fast! It’s hot and my feet are tired!”

“We don’t have time to stop. We need to reach the shelter.” 

“We’re lost, aren’t we?” Walking to the roundabout had been easy. Although they were crowded in with other people, surrounded by the bleeding and the broken, they had walked diligently along the uneven path, cracking debris beneath their feet and dragging sludge left by the tsunami with their shoes. 

At the roundabout, there had been confusion and passive-aggressive arguments. Hanamaki wanted to head towards the mountainous region of Shinzen, stating that it would have the least amount of tsunami damage due to being high above sea level and only one route heading into the town. Iwaizumi had argued back that it would be riddled with landslides and the ground would still be unstable for a long time. 

Yahaba had made it very clear that Shiratori was their safest option in that case, the academy having been built earthquake proof, and too far inland for the tsunami to reach. Of course, Watari, Kyoutani, and Kunimi had agreed, mostly out of logic but also because they didn’t hold the same hatred towards Shiratorizawa as their senpai. 

Oikawa had almost thrown a tantrum at that suggestion, because logic be damned, he didn’t want to be anywhere near _‘Ushiwaka’s stupid face and dumb voice and **I hate him**!’_. As childish as it was, when Oikawa accused them of betraying him, they instantly apologised and ‘admitted’ to being wrong. Except for Kyoutani. He simply grunted, which Oikawa seemed to have misinterpreted. 

Matsukawa had wanted to take the path towards Shiratori because he knew there was an off-road leading to Ougiminami high school, but then a small office building had collapsed right by their position and they quickly realised Ougiminami was still not a safe option. Kindaichi was neutral in all opinions, as long as they reached somewhere by nightfall. Whilst everything was dangerous after a natural disaster, the greatest threat came from suffering people in the dark of the night. No stranger could be trusted.

That left the only option of heading toward Johzenji. Silently, the team had started heading that way. Having had three options, the crowds were much thinner. It seemed like the majority had headed towards the other two locations. After all, Johzenji was a further distance away than Ougiminami high school. It wasn’t surrounded by cliffs that protected from tsunamis, and it probably didn’t have the same funding as Shiratorizawa. It almost seemed like the stupidest option, but it was the only one Seijou had agreed on.

Now, it was midday, and the heat had intensified to nearly unbearable. They were almost finished with the water rations they had received from the rescuers earlier that morning, but they were dehydrating quickly. And they still had a long ways to go.

“I- I’m sorry, I need to sit down too...”Sweating and aching all over, Yahaba slumped to the ground with a hiss of pain. He slid off his shoes – meant for indoors, as he had fled the school building in them – and rolled down his socks. There, tainting his skin in blotches were popped or swollen blisters, and shallow cuts that stung and bled. Hanamaki winced and crouched down to take one of the feet into his hands, rolling it observationally as Yahaba recoiled and cringed.

“This is bad. We need to get these washed and treated.” 

“How? We- We have no supplies. They were left back at The Hill when we saw rescuers...”Oikawa sighed and then pushed himself to his feet once more, having sat next to Yahaba immediately. He had thought it was out of the same exhaustion he was experiencing, not such festering wounds that risked infection.

“Leave it to me~.” His eyes glinted with a dangerous expression before he walked over to a small shop just further down the round. Iwaizumi hesitated in following, knowing that Oikawa needed supervision most of the time, but not wanting to leave his team. He decided to trust Oikawa on this one. 

Hanamaki used the last of the last of what was in his bottle of water to rinse away the dry, cracked blood on Yahaba’s feet, hoping that the slight temperature difference would cool the burning ache that came with the blisters. As if he had read his mind, Matsukawa fished for his own water bottle and passed it over. 

He had more left than Hanamaki, but stored it in his pocket instead of swinging it around, so it was slightly warmer. Still, as Yahaba grit his teeth against the biting sting the initial flow of water caused, and then thanked them honestly, Matsukawa could clearly saw that he made the right choice.

“I’m back~! Did you miss me~?”

“No.”

“Ah, Kyou-ken-chan! How harsh and unforgiving!”

“That’s enough, Oikawa. What did you do?” Oikawa pouted as he passed a bag over to Iwaizumi, who opened it up with curiosity and rummaged inside.

“Iwa-chan is just as mean. You should be more happy I returned to you.”

“Oh, you managed to get plasters and painkillers. Water too.” Oikawa smiled and flashed his iconic pose, a sense of normality that had Watari huff in amusement and shake his head, the first years exchanging a glance as if to say that things would be okay. 

“Here, let me.” Iwaizumi crouched before the second year, nudging Hanamaki aside as he dried the wet feet with his own shirt, not caring that it was being dirtied. They’d had the same clothes on for about a week anyways. It wasn’t like blood was going to make it more gross than their own sweat and natural dirt. Gently, Iwaizumi passed him the plaster packet so that Hanamaki could take them out and peel off the paper before passing it over to Iwaizumi to stick on over the wounds. Yahaba flinched and grimaced at each one, but he managed to bear through it.

“I think your foot is more plaster than skin now~.” The light mirth in Iwaizumi’s voice prompted Yahaba to quirk a smile.

“Maybe we could consider it an upgrade.”

“Maybe indeed!” Yahaba slipped his shoes back on with a scrunched up face. They didn’t rub as much, but there was still friction that irritated the general area around each plaster. Hanamaki frowned as he read that expression.

“I think we should look for somewhere to rest for now. Johzenji is still too far away to reach before sunset, and like Oikawa said; it’s hot and our feet hurt.” 

“I have to agree. It would be nice to rest in the shade, just until we find somewhere to spend the night.” Kunimi picked at a scab on his elbow when the entire team looked to him, expecting a retort about how lazy he was. It only proved how much the megaquake had changed them when they started to _calmly_ discuss it. After a small period of time with quiet muttering and deliberation, Matsukawa put his hands on his hips.

“Finding shade is our priority, and not the type ‘Hiro and I throw. I’m talking shade that’s gonna keep us cool. At least until the peak of the day is over. Kyoutani, Watari, Kindaichi, and Kunimi, you guys are going to stay here with Yahaba whilst the rest of us go looking.”

“Wha-What do you mean? We’re splitting up?!”

“Temporarily, Watacchin. We just don’t want to push you past your limits. Yahaba-chan is injured enough that he can’t walk, Kindaichi-chan probably still has lingering concussion, and you and Kunimi are physically exhausted. Don’t lie to me, I can see it. Kyoutani is staying here in case anyone suspicious approaches. He’s your defence.” 

“We’ll be back soon. As long as you stay here, we’ll know how to find you again. It’s just to look for somewhere cooler.” Heeding the words of his senpai, Watari bit his lip and nodded. He wasn’t comfortable about separating, even if it was in their best interest, but it was Yahaba’s soft hiss of discomfort that persuaded him.

“Okay. Please return safely.” With little more than a quiet ‘stay safe’, the third years made their departure. Watari heard Kindaichi gulp in nervousness. It was understandable. The last people that had said goodbye to where their families, when they left for school, and that hadn’t led to a happy ending. It had led to them wondering streets in a town that was completely new to them, alien in appearance from its destruction and degrading appearance. Watari put a steady hand on the first years shoulder.

“Don’t worry. They’ll be okay. Before you know it, they’ll be coming back with news of shelter.” Kindaichi opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by the sound of an explosion. Blazing heat bore down on them and they ducked as debris rained down from the sky. It was only the size of pebbles and hail, but it hammered down from the heavens with the crackle of fire in the background. Astounded and terrified, Watari looked in the direction it had come from. 

What was once a petrol station in the residential area of Ougiminami, was now a searing fireball and growing flames, shrouded in smoke and spreading to the houses it hadn’t blown away in the blast. As if the roar and crackle of fire consuming material wasn’t enough, the screams of those who had been close enough to get burned were fuel to the nightmares Watari was sure he would have. People ran from the blast, people who were heavily scarred or partially melted or still on fire and begging for relief. People that would be as permanently disfigured on the outside as they probably already were on the inside.

He could only stare in horror as the screams of a little boy came from beneath the wreckage of a car, twisted metal trapping him in place and slowly boiling into his flesh as the fire roared closer. His parents didn’t even try. They ran. They abandoned their child to the wildly thrashing flames. 

A tug on his sleeve snapped his attention back to his teammates. They had equal fear and desperation in their eyes, posed to run away from the fire despite their aches and exhaustion. A screech of agony jolted Watari. The flames had reached the scrap metal car. He gulped, and in a split second, tore away from the hand gripping his sleeve.

“Watari, no! You’ll get burned! _WATARI!_ ” He ignored Yahaba’s cry, sprinting towards the child who desperately screamed in hopes of being heard and rescued, or gifted a swift end. The kind of death that did not come from being cooked and charred and burnt to nothing but charcoal powder. Watari prayed that his younger siblings had not sounded the same in their last moments. He wished they had been granted a quick, painless exit from this world. He foolishly hoped, that if they had survived , someone had saved them like he was about to try and save this child.

The heat was almost unbearable. Watari almost stopped. He almost turned on foot and retreated to where it was safe, where his skin didn’t prickle and sting, where his eyes didn’t feel like they were desert dry, where there weren’t flames licking his skin and smoke whirling in his lungs. He ducked as low as he could as he powered through. 

If he was crying, the petrol fuelled fire evaporated his tears before they could reach his cheeks. As soon as he put his hands on the twisted wreckage of the car, he could feel the skin beneath break open and burn, blistering and boiling, bubbling into disfiguration. He knew he was damaging his fingers and palms beyond use. He knew he was sacrificing volleyball. 

But it was for a child, who had noticed his presence. Whom still screamed in agony and writhed at every pinprick of the blaze, but wriggled himself towards Watari as the libero grunted and strained and heaved the wreckage upwards, a cry of agonised determination tearing from his throat. 

All of a sudden, the car seemed lighter. It lifted upwards enough and Watari saw hands grab the boy under the armpits and drag him out. He didn’t have time to question it with a jolt of shock before a secondary explosion blew him backwards, the boy and the others with him. Fortunately, perhaps out of sheer luck, they had been blown far enough away to avoid contact with the second fireball.

“Run, you fucking idiot!” He would recognise Kyoutani’s sharp bark anywhere, a hand slapping his back hard enough to make him wheeze, but he didn’t hesitate to follow the order. He was right on Kunimi’s heels, the young child scooped up in his arms and clinging to Kunimi’s shirt material. When they reached the spot they had left Kindaichi and Yahaba, they were standing and ready to go, Yahaba supported by the taller as he limped along as fast as he could. They headed towards the small roadside shop Oikawa had managed to charm water bottles and plasters from. Watari glanced for the bag and realised Yahaba had it hanging from an elbow. Now, they just had to pray the third years had escaped the explosion and figured out where they had gone for safety.

Collapsing to the ground and dropping to their knees once they had reached safety, Watari choked out as hands tightly grabbed his collar, practically lifting him up. Kyoutani glared down at him, absolutely furious. He shook the libero roughly, despite the bad burns on his own hands. Burns that would scar, but would heal. The difference was enormous, Watari realised, as he felt his own limbs tingle with such heat that it felt like ice.

“You fucking _idiot_!!! What were you thinking?! You almost got yourself killed! You survived a megaquake, you survived a fucking _tsunami_ , and now you’re trying to kill yourself in a _fucking **fire**_!? You stupid bastard!” The corners of Watari’s lips twitched upwards. 

“I’m... Alive, aren’t I? And the kid-” 

“The kid is in need of treatment we can’t give.” Yahaba snapped out sharply, before Watari could even finish his sentence.

“Then what? I was supposed to abandon him like we left our own siblings?” Escaping before he could process the harsh words, unnecessarily cruel, like a sharpened spear, Watari knew the damage was done. He saw it in the way Kunimi’s jaw dropped and his lips quivered before turning his back on Watari, clutching a little tighter at the boy in his arms. He felt it when he roughly hit the ground, thrown to the dirt by Kyoutani, who was biting his lip enough to draw blood, enraged tears welling in his eyes. He heard it in the sharp intake of breath Yahaba took, then the rustling of fabric of Kindaichi rubbed his back. 

Kyoutani’s 10-year-old sister, Yahaba’s five siblings – one boy and four girls – that were only elementary age and younger, and Kunimi’s sister, whom had come home from college early for the holidays. He bit his tongue, regretting his accusation immediately. He himself felt like he had abandoned the twins, seven year old boys with a craving for adventure and mischief, but that was no reason to blame the others of such a thing.

“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean... To say that. I just-... I...”

“I understand.” The boy in Kunimi’s arms had calmed from screaming to sobbing, or perhaps he was just too exhausted to waste energy on volume, so Kunimi’s quiet statement was easily heard. He turned his head back to Watari, eye alit with a strange motivation he had never seen the first year possess before.

“I understand why you saved this child. But _**never**_ insinuate that I purposely left my sister to that again.”

“I won’t, I’m sorry.” Kunimi nodded in understandingly. Silently, even though his legs wobbled and his feet were _agony_ , Yahaba pushed Kindaichi’s comforting hand of him and limped over to Watari. He fell forwards, Watari struggling to catch him, but he managed, and Yahaba clung onto him like he had almost died in a fire. Oh wait. He had.

“I didn’t leave all my siblings, Shinji. I- I still have you.” This time, it was Watari who cried.

Kyoutani folded his arms as he observed them, his fingers digging tightly into his flesh. He had had one sister. He had no brothers, nor did he have anyone he could call a brother. He was closest to Yahaba on the team, but only because they bickered and bantered and Yahaba was salty enough to take every insult thrown at him, then throw back twice as many with double the offence. He could handle Kyoutani’s temper with a firm hand, training him like a _dog_. 

Yahaba was the demon disguised as an angel, and the closest Kyoutani had to a best friend. But he wasn’t family. They weren’t close enough to be brothers. Looking around, he wasn’t sure why, but he started to imagine if perhaps, he could call any of these friends a brother. 

He first thought of Kindaichi, because it was funny to make the kid squirm in nervousness or squeak in terror with a single growl. Half the time, Kyoutani was only acting angry around him because it was _hilarious_ to see the tallest member of their team back-peddling away from him with fright.  
But that wasn’t the real meaning behind being a brother. Sure, he had scared his sister from time to time, but he had also protected her from the things that really scared her, had kept her company when she needed it, and even softened up to playing with her, whether it had been dress-up and tea parties as a little girl, or board games as she grew older.   
The second year felt none of that instinctual older-brother protectiveness over Kindaichi. Only friend-level, if he was able to measure that on a scale.

Secondly, he considered Kunimi. There was definitely the urge to protect there. He just seemed so _weak_ when it came to physical efforts, or tired and lazy enough to do nothing about it. Kyoutani would tell no-one, but after having seen Kunimi being pushed around by stronger people from his year, sometime when Kindaichi hadn’t been around, he had taken to checking on him at the beginning of lunch.   
All it took was a glare to the boys who had dared to bully him once, and they didn’t dare touch him again.   
Still, there was something missing. He didn’t feel like he could step up to help Kunimi if he was struggling with internal problems, and he felt no joy towards trying the same tricks on him as he did on Kindaichi. Only minor irritation, as he would receive a blank, deadpan look and then was ignored. What use was a brother if he couldn’t be teased, or mildly frightened, or pranked?

Lastly, he considered Watari. That was an immediate no. He couldn’t keep up with such energy, routines and decisions changed with the flick of a switch, and impulsiveness that exceeded even his. Kyoutani would shamefully admit that he was a little intimidated by their kind-hearted libero, who always tried to do the right thing even if it meant losing something. Kyoutani wasn’t sure that, even as brothers, they’d ever get along for long. Too much of a good thing, and all that.

Suddenly, a weight slammed into his back and a fist thumped his head hard enough that he was sure it was already swelling.

“You idiots! You morons! Why- Why didn’t you leave a trail or a message or _something_ , we thought you’d been caught in the explosion!” The rambling continued, a punch landing on his body in a different place each time, weakening as the arm around his waist from behind tightened with each sentence until he was being held close to a warm, muscular body. The corners of Kyoutani’s lips twitched upwards as Iwaizumi lectured them endlessly.

Maybe he did have a brother after all.

“Nii-san...?” The noise was cut off as the little boy in Kunimi’s arms spoke, pushing away from the first year to look around. He was badly burnt, skin melted to reveal bubbling and boiled flesh, his face just as disfigured as the rest of his body and charred at the edges of the burns. It was a gruesome sight that had Oikawa avert his eyes with a gag, Hanamaki retching before he turned around and clapped a hand over his mouth, and Kindaichi recoiling away with a whimper. Amazingly, even though he flinched, Iwaizumi was able to plaster on a soft expression and crouch down to eye level with the child.

“Hey kid~... You say you have a brother? Do you know where he is?” The child reached out and latched onto Iwaizumi’s collar, his blistered skin stretching as he weakly gripped the material for comfort. Gently, Kunimi passed the boy across until he was safely cradled in muscular arms.

“Nii-san was- was in school when the ‘quake started. It was scary.”

“Ah, I’m sure it was. Which school does your brother go to?”

“Ougiminami h-high school. I told mama an’ papa to take me there, but then there was lots of fires, so we ran away, but the big booms caught up.” Iwaizumi didn’t need to be a genius to work out what the kid meant. The road from the residential area to the high school had been blocked by fires triggered by the earthquake, and the petrol stations within the residency had exploded, spreading it further. Silently, he sent a prayer up to any of the gods to watch over those that were still trying to escape.

“I think you brother might still be there. Why don’t we try and find him?”

“Mhm~!” The boy nodded, smiling despite the cracked and stretched skin around his mouth.

“Iwa-chan, are you crazy? We have to this way! We all decided to go to Johzenji!” A sharp glare was sent to Oikawa as the child’s happiness deflated. Iwaizumi jostled him slightly.

“There’ll be refuge camps along the road. The military will have a database for all the people at shelters, and if this kid’s brother is at the high school, it’ll be on their records. We’ll find out for definite at the camp and go from there.” Without a word of protest or agreement, Seijou began to walk in the same direction they had intended, trying to ignore the length of their shadows from the blaze behind, or the cries echoing into the atmosphere. 

They managed to make it half a mile before Yahaba’s feet gave way again, sore and split open, bleeding through the plasters in places. His ankles were beginning to chafe along the top of his shoes too. He hissed as his knees hit the ground, punching the tarmac in frustration.

“Yahaba?” Matsukawa put a gentle hand on his shoulder, but the second year shrugged it off, angry at himself.

“I’m sorry. I’m just holding you all back.”

“Oi... Don’t think like that. We’re a team, yeah? We stick together no matter what.” Before he could protest, Yahaba was abruptly lifted from behind under the arms, and deposited on Matsukawa’s back. He gave Hanamaki a half-hearted glare, to which he just grinned and gave a thumbs up. Matsukawa looped his arms around Yahaba’s legs, holding him in place before jogging a little to catch up with the others, who wore matching tiny smirks. Yahaba realised in that instance, that this had been premeditated. 

“... I hate you all...”

“Love you too, Yahaba-chan~!” He rested where he was, silently thankful for their help as his feet were granted the break they dearly needed. Onwards they marched; sweat cooling in the afternoon breeze and the sun moving to dip behind mountains in the distance. Oikawa reckoned that if they continued at this pace, they would reach Johzenji in two days. He also hoped that Iwaizumi was right, and there was a refuge camp long before then.


	7. The earth fell apart and so are we.

Towada Ame was a sweet, gentle child. He always said please and thank you. He would giggle at Oikawa’s stupid faces or the jokes Hanamaki told. He kept asking if Kindaichi’s ‘boo-boo’ was better, pointing to the gauze on his forehead that was starting to fray. They would be sad to see him go, that was true, but all 9 of them knew that somewhere, there was a boy their age dearly missing his younger brother, not knowing if he was alive or dead. At least Seijou had the grace of knowing.

“Thank you very much, ma’am.” Iwaizumi bowed politely to the woman behind the desk, holding the sleeping child in his arms tightly so that he wouldn’t fall. The rest of the group were standing off to the side so that they weren’t taking up unnecessary room in the queue. Steadily, their vice-captain jogged back to them. His expression was sincere, and they instantly expected bad news.

“His brother is one of the volunteers at Ougiminami high school.” Sighs of relief came from all round, Watari nervously chuckling as he had feared the worst. Ame was only 7, the same as the twins had been. He didn’t want anyone else to feel the pain of having their beloved younger sibling ripped away. Oikawa cleared his throat, appearing anxious despite the relief.

“So... What do we do now? Do we walk back all that way, or leave the kid here and carry on?”

“We can’t just leave him! He’s a child!” Kindaichi’s outburst wasn’t unexpected. Out of all of them, he and Iwaizumi had grown closest to tiny Towada Ame. Hanamaki noticed and had wondered if it had to do with the fact that they had no previous siblings. They didn’t have to fight guilt about replacing that precious bond after the loss of their brothers or sisters. 

Still, this boy was not their brother, nor was he their responsibility. He was just a stranger, picked up on their journey. Reality was cruel and harsh, Hanamaki thought, having put them through everything they had experienced.

“There’s a unit here for children trying to make their ways back to their families. The officer at the desk told me we could leave him here with confidence that he would be returned to his brother as soon as possible.”

“But how long is that? A week? A month? A year?” Not knowing the answer, because Kindaichi could be right in any of those guesses, Iwaizumi glanced away. Clearing his throat, Oikawa shook his hands and breathed in dramatically.

“Oooo-kay. Let’s all just calm down. There’s only one way to settle this fairly, and that’s to take a vote. All in favour of leaving the brat in safer, _more capable_ hands, raise your arms now.” Oikawa quickly counted Matsukawa, Kunimi, Kyoutani, and himself.

“... So that’s five in favour of keeping it.”

“Actually, I think I’ve found another way.” Yahaba jerked his thumb towards the military vans, carrying supplies and the injured to other locations. Typically, people were only transported to hospitals and the supplies were transported to refuges, but there were no rules stating otherwise. With the destination of each vehicle written on the side, it was easy to identify the three heading back towards Ougiminami.

“If we can convince one of the drivers to take him, he’ll be closer to finding his brother.”

“How will we know if he gets there safely?”

“Because I’ll be going with him.” Yahaba stubbornly refused to give in, even as they looked at him with identical expressions of shock and heartbreak.

“Yaha- Shigeru, no... No! You’re- You’re a brother to me, you can’t go!” With a soft huff, folding his arms and tilting his head to the side, Yahaba made sure that he had perfect eye-contact with Watari before speaking his reasons.

“I’ve thought about this long and hard. My feet are so sore and damaged, I’m not sure I can actually walk any further. But in that respect, because of this injury, I’ll be allowed on the transport vehicles. And don’t worry; you won’t be losing me forever~! I have my mobile on me, so as soon as the cell network is working again, we can arrange to meet up.” Tense and still, nobody dared to make a move until Kyoutani slowly exhaled and his voice dipped an entire octave.

“You’re set on this, aren’t you?”

“Mhm. I won’t go back on my word.” Iwaizumi stepped forwards, shifting Ame in his arms and then holding him out for Yahaba to take. Ame stirred, but quickly settled into the gentle cradle, Yahaba rocking him back and forth tenderly. He knew how to do this, having helped raise his _five_ younger siblings. Iwaizumi faltered in stepping backwards, clapping a hand on Yahaba’s shoulder.

“As _soon_ as the network is back, remember? I don’t care if you’re in the middle of taking a shit, you ring us.” Softly, he laughed, taking notice of Hanamaki snickering in the background and Matsukawa coughing to cover up a choked laugh. Kindaichi had gone full red, Kunimi smirking, and Watari sadly smiling at him. Kyoutani’s face scrunched up with slight disgust, as if he was imagining it happening.

“Iwa-Chan, that’s just crude! Don’t ring in the middle of a poop, wipe your butt and wash your hands first!” 

“I promise, I promise~!” Shared laughter, so rare nowadays, was music to his ears. As it decreased in volume, Yahaba fondly smiled. He could feel a sting behind his eyes, tears of farewell building.

“I’m going to miss you all. But I’ll be back. You can’t get rid of me that easily~.” Oikawa was the first to burst into tears, lunging forwards and encapsulating him in a tight hug. Yahaba had to very quickly move Ame aside to avoid being crushed between the two of them. The rumble of engines distracted them.

“S-Senpai, you have to let go! The fleet is about to leave!” Oikawa pulled away with a tearful nod, allowing the rest to exchange brief goodbyes before Yahaba heavily limped over to the truck marked ‘Ougiminami high school’. A man in rescue efforts uniform was just bolting up the back of the truck.

“E-Excuse me! Would it be possible to catch a lift? This little boy’s brother is at the high school.” The man looked to be considering it, frowning softly.

“I’m afraid this is only for cargo and those needing immediate medical attention.” Before Yahaba could open his mouth to say anything, his facial expression softened.

“But I don’t see why not. You two are only children.” Yahaba politely bowed, accepting a hand up onto the back of the cargo truck, trying not to cry out in pain as he had to step up with all his weight on a cracked, blistered foot. Settling down, he bit back tears and raised a hand to wave back at Seijou, getting smaller and smaller along the horizon until they disappeared from view. 

It only took seconds after the fleet of trucks had left for Watari to break down in sorrowful howls, dropping to his knees in the dusty ground and gasping for breaths through wracking cries that burned his lungs. A dainty hand rested on the back of his neck, Kunimi trying his best to offer support despite his own shaking shoulders and the hot tears dripping down his cheeks. No-one else was in much better state. 

“Watari... Come on... We- We need to secure a sleeping spot.” Avoiding Watari’s burnt, destroyed arms, Matsukawa hoisted him up to his feet, propped between himself and Kunimi. Oikawa somehow managed to pull himself together to take the first few steps away from their group, over to the canopy areas. It wasn’t much, but it was shelter from any rain that could happen. Sleeping bags were passed out at a small desk, leaving the people themselves to find a place within the shelter and settle down. 

“8, please.” Oikawa passed them out as they were given to him, waving them away to a spare corner. Undoubtedly, they’d be lying atop each other and squashed, but that wasn’t anything extraordinary considering how they’d bundled together atop the evacuation point back in Aobajosai. 

“Makki, take the outside edge, Iwa-chan, the other side. Mattsun, you’ll be opposite me and we’ll nest the underclassmen in the middle~.” Kyoutani was not happy with that. He grunted and his shoulders tensed, even at the very thought of being _cuddled_ with his peers. Before he could be dragged into it, watching the others arranging themselves in an askew square, he backed off until he was at least three meters away. It put him right on the edge of the canopy, risking a soaking if it rains, but Kyoutani was okay with that. Besides, there was no guarantee it would rain.

“Oi.” Shit. Caught out.

“What?”

“Stop being an ass. Get over here.” Kyoutani grumbled. He shuffled. He picked his sleeping bag back up and dragged it over to Iwaizumi’s side.

“M’not sleeping in a _nest_.”

“Fine. You can keep my back warm.” Obediently, only because it was someone who was so much stronger, _better_ , than him, Kyoutani rolled over on his side and pressed his back against Iwaizumi’s. His eyes widened. The third year was right, it was warm. It was... Comfortable. He felt himself relaxing, muscles losing tension as he drifted off almost immediately. It had been a long day, and he hadn’t slept on the bus like the others had. Kyoutani’s soft snoring almost drowned out the amused huff from Iwaizumi.

“Iwa-chan...?” 

“Shh. He must’ve been tired. We all need to sleep.” Oikawa giggled at the motherly tone in Iwaizumi’s voice, covering his mouth with the edge of the sleeping bag to muffle it. He didn’t want to wake Kunimi, who had dropped off at the tip of a hat. 

“Good night, guys~.” Whispers came back from his fellow third years and Kindaichi, but Watari remained silent. He stared up at the blank canopy ceiling, the juniper green canvas giving him no relief from the darkness that flitted in his mind. A libero was supposed to carry the team, to be the strongest support, but Watari could feel the cracks forming. He flickered his eyes to his burnt arms, feeling the skin stretch and a sensation like a million flaming centipedes crawling along the weeping wound. 

Ah. That was right. He could never be a libero again. There was no duty in having to stay strong and pull the others through. He could never play volleyball again, never be a part of the team.

What was the point in even being here if he was entirely useless?


	8. Heatstroke.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The biggest danger comes not from the aftershocks, but from our bodies themselves.

When morning came, Hanamaki stretched out his limbs like a leisurely cat before peeling open his eyes. He felt warm and fuzzy, with the first years curled up against one side, Iwaizumi using his legs as a pillow, and Oikawa nuzzled in against his shoulder. Huffing, he ruffled the bird’s nest of brunette hair before nudging him off and sitting up. Instantly, he noticed something was wrong. 

There was an empty space where someone should have been. Putting his hand on the abandoned sleeping bag, Hanamaki swallowed down building anxiety when he took note that it was cold. Nobody had been there for a while.

“Watari?” He daren’t break above a whisper in fear of waking the others when they so dearly needed rest, but he knew that the libero was not within hearing range if he couldn’t even be seen. Slowly, Hanamaki wriggled himself out of his sleeping bag and stood, looking around for anywhere the missing member could have disappeared to. People were just waking, sitting up in their places and quietly talking amongst themselves. A few heads turned towards him, but he dispelled any questioning looks with a strained smile. 

The rumble of an approaching vehicle caught his attention. From the direction of Ougiminami, a cargo truck rolled into the centre of the camp, near a large tent that was clearly indicated as the emergency medical bay. Hanamaki knew it well, seeing as he and Iwaizumi has been the ones to accompany Ame into there when they first arrived. Aloe Vera cream and bandages had been all they were able to spare at this small refuge, but it was on the front line of treating burns from those that escaped the petrol station fires ablaze in residential Ougiminami. 

The cargo truck was opened by two people with bands on their arms that identified them as volunteers in the rescue efforts, and the few nurses that worked in the medical bay emerged like hungry wolves to swarm around the truck. Supplies were handed out and rushed inside to those that were crying in a pain. 

Somehow, Hanamaki winced as he realised, they had become so used to screams that they slept through it all. That was when he noticed someone blending in like he belonged there; if it weren’t for the fact he knew they had been sleeping next to him all night.

“Watari!” Hanamaki jogged over. His concern and alarm fading quickly as he was flashed a bright smile, one that he hadn’t seen since the practice session before this entire mess started. Before the earthquake destroyed their lives. He found himself returning the expression on a weaker scale, squeezing Watari’s shoulder as soon as he was close enough to. 

He noticed with a jolt that Watari’s arms, which he had previously refused to _‘waste supplies on’_ were now wrapped in bandages, and he was using them with only a wince and flinch as he picked up a box from the truck. Watari didn’t even stop walking as he spoke, leaving Hanamaki to speed walk to keep up.

“Morning, Senpai! Sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up, but I found something to do~. I can help out here, with all the younger children coming in.” Watari placed the box down at the back of the tent, retracing his steps hurriedly to fetch another.

“Wh- What do you mean you found something?”

“Look around. All of these people... They have the same burns I have, if not worse. I can _help_ them, senpai. I know what it feels like.”

“Wait, are you saying... Permanently?” Hanamaki stopped in his tracks, quickly apologising as a nurse ran into the back of him. Watari paused. He turned around; fists clenched and face steady with determination.

“As long as there are victims of the fire, yes. I’m staying here. This is the first refuge survivors reach. There are _children_ coming in with charred skin and melted flesh. I can... I **have** helped some of them already. Please, Hanamaki. This is where I can help; this is where I’m useful.” Hanamaki could feel it bubbling up in his chest. He was weighted down with emotion, yet felt so hollow. Slowly, tendrils of rage crept in.

“So- So you’re going to stay? Even if we leave? What about Yahaba, Watari?! What about us?!” 

“I can’t do anything for you!” Snapping out the remake, Watari tilted his head to the ground, face scrunched up with a wet anger, a brewing sadness stirring in with hesitance. He didn’t want to leave them. He didn’t want to leave his friends. But... 

A child cried out as they were laid in a futon nearby, clothes scorched and patches of red skin blistering under the heat of flames, having gone untreated for the journey from the residential area to the camp.

“Watari...”

“Please excuse me.” He bowed quickly and politely to Hanamaki, who looked tormented and abandoned, but Watari had no time to spare. Hanamaki watched with wide, watery eyes, as Watari slowly sat himself on the edge of the futon and started talking in a calm, quiet voice, a smile present on his face. The child, probably no older than three, looked up at him through hiccups and cries and begun to quieten. Her cries turned into small giggles as Watari pulled a face.

Having captured the little girl’s attention, Watari undid one of his bandages. The skin beneath was white, bubbled and blistered, and oozed with yellowish pus. It was clearly stretched and the fragile red patches of raw, aggravated flesh cracked as he flexed his fingers, beads of blood arising through them. But the toddler did not scream, or look away, or cry. Her own wounds were much worse, much fresher. 

Watari allowed her to reach out and touch over his healing burns, the spongy blisters bouncing back at the lightest brush of her fingertips. Then, she drew back and held out her own scorched arm. Hanamaki watched in amazement as Watari gently cleaned the wound with water first off, then applied a thick layer of cream, and finally bound it with the same bandages around his arm, only a light pink. 

It looked like he had practiced this, had learnt it off by heart. More gentle words were exchanged, and then the little girl lay down to rest. Around her wrist, Watari tied a small label that had four bands of colour. Black, red, yellow, green. He ripped off the green band.

“What’s that for?” For the first time in a few minutes, Watari glanced up at Hanamaki. He smiled, but it did not reach the haunted expression in his eyes. 

“Medical identification labels. It’s how we identify the patients that need more urgent treatment.” He pointed to the red band.

“Or those who need attention, but aren’t a priority.” This, he indicated, was the yellow band.

“All four signify that the person will heal alone after a single treatment.” Hanamaki waited for him to continue, but Watari did not. Swallowing down a bad feeling, like bile in his throat, he dryly croaked out his question.

“What about black?” Grey-blue eyes overshadowed with sorrow.

“Dead.” Hanamaki regretted asking. Unconsciously, his eyes flitted around the tent. From what he could see, three people had blankets drawn up over their faces. He had thought them sleeping when they entered. Now, seeing the white label poking out from under the blankets with a single black band attached, he knew differently. Vomit rose from his stomach, but he fought it back down.

“How- How many would be black if you weren’t here?”

“Seven. Two of them younger than us.” Understandingly, Hanamaki nodded.

“Will you at least say goodbye before we leave?” 

“I can definitely do that~. In fact, help me bring the stuff in and I’ll join you guys for breakfast.” This time, the cheeky grin on Watari’s face danced alight in his eyes with such normality that Hanamaki almost forgot that they were in the middle of a rescue effort. That they had lost everything. That they had survived when their homes had been reduced to rubble, and all the friends and family they knew stolen by the sea. Bodies that would feed the fishes, or lay in the remains of coastal towns with the same label and black band attached to their wrists or ankles.

“Cool. We’d better hurry. The others will be stirring soon.” Breaking into a jog, the duo were able to help the nurses clear the truck in a mere ten minutes, boxes of supplies now stacked at the back of the medical tent in organised heaps. Watari brushed his hands against his dusty pants, not really helping to clean them, but it was habit born from sweaty volleyball matches and intense practices. 

“Alright! Let’s go, and hope they take the news lightly...”

“Don’t worry. I’ll back you up, as long as you promise to return to us.” Watari laughed brightly as he walked by Hanamaki’s side, back to the canopy that sheltered the sleeping area. Oikawa was sitting up and instantly started waving with both arms when he saw them approaching. 

He probably would have run over and tackle-hugged them if it weren’t for Matsukawa using his lap as a pillow. Nobody would dare wake him early. Matsukawa was _scary_ when woken up.

“Makki! Watacchin! Where did you go~?”

“To the medical tent! I couldn’t sleep, so I spent the night over there instead.”

“Yeah, I found him helping out this morning. Turns out, it’s not just volleyballs he saves.” Oikawa’s eyes widened with a sparkly awe.

“That’s amazing! You can help people wherever we go now!” Sheepishly, Watari rubbed the back of his head.

“Actually, about that... Never mind. I’ll tell everyone at breakfast.”

“Yeah, Oikawa, get to waking them~.” The terrified look on Oikawa’s face as Hanamaki started walking off towards the smell of food was enough to make Watari feel bad. Almost. He snickered before following after Hanamaki, leaving Oikawa all by himself to wake his terrifying teammates. He glanced at each of them hesitantly. From their golden week training camps, he _knew_ Matsukawa would strangulate anyone who dared to raise him from his slumber. Waking him was a big no-no.

Part of Oikawa’s mind whispered _‘do it.’_ , and he wondered why he so obviously loved to suffer. His next option, the rational part of him argued, was to wake Iwaizumi, so he could wake the other, more murderous sleepers. Iwaizumi could easily put Matsukawa in a headlock before he turned to slaughter. And something told Oikawa that Kyoutani would bite his hand off, but not Iwaizumi’s.

“Iwa-chan... It’s morning, time to get up, grumpy guts~.” In an utterly stupid move that he would come to regret later, Oikawa jabbed his fingers into Iwaizumi’s ribs. The Ace bolted up and _headbutted_ him completely on instinct, hard enough that the crack of their skulls made a few early birds nearby jump and look at them in shock. 

Oikawa had yelped at the initial contact, now whimpering as he rubbed his sore hairline. Iwaizumi hunched over, clutching at his forehead with a groan that was husky with sleep.

“Oikawa, what the fu- frick were you thinking!?” Sniggering at the choice of words, to protect the innocence of little kids nearby, Oikawa nearly forgot to answer. The icy piercing of a homicidal glare almost froze him alive as he looked away, feigning innocence.

“G-Good morning, Iwa-chan! What a c-coincidence that we happened to wake at the same time!”

“Coincidence my ass...thetic. Aesthetic.” His eyes flickered over to two children playing nearby who seemed to have heard their conversation and were parroting words. Thank god he’d managed to cover himself. He exhaled in a _‘whoosh’_ of relief. He whipped his head around to glare death at Oikawa, whom had been watching with amusement.

“Eheh~. Makki and Watacchin went ahead to breakfast, so we need to wake everyone up and meet them there~.”

“You woke me up, you can deal with Matsukawa.”

“Iwa-chan, _no_.” Iwaizumi, however, payed no mind to the protest. He shuffled up onto his knees and placed his right hand on Kyoutani’s shoulder, and his left hand on Kunimi’s hip. In unison he roughly shook them both. 

With a groan, Kunimi sat up in a zombie like state, with messy bed hair and his eyes crusted over with sleep. Evaporated drool had left a reddish mark from the corner of his lips to his chin. Ash and charcoal still smeared his features, the faint scent of smoke clinging to his clothes and skin.

That smoke-fragrance was even more notable on Kyoutani, who grunted incorrigibly and batted Iwaizumi’s hand away, tugging the sleeping bag up to cover everything but his face. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes before hopping onto his feet in a couching position, grabbing the end of the sleeping bag, and yanking it as he stood. Kyoutani was sent rolling across the concrete as the sleeping bag unfurled from around him, Iwaizumi chucking it aside.

“If you want food, I suggest you get up now.” Grumbling incoherently, Kyoutani tiredly wrestled himself to his feet and held his palms out flat as if to say _‘Good enough for you?’_ Oikawa couldn’t help but giggle-snort at the scene, likening it to a grumpy teenage being roused for school. 

His face fell, not when he receive matching angry faces, but when he realised that, ah, that’s right, they didn’t have a school anymore. Iwaizumi’s brow furrowed as he handed Kunimi a hand to get up.

“Can you two make your way to the food tent? We’ll join you in a minute.” Dazed with sunrise fatigue, Kunimi nodded. He almost tripped over Kindaichi as he turned on foot to head towards the refuge camp map, and Iwaizumi wasn’t sure he would have made it if it weren’t for Kyoutani grabbing the first year by the sleeve and _dragging_ him in the right direction. It wasn’t exactly a caring gesture, but it was a start. 

“Iwa-chan...?”

“You had that look on your face again. The one where- Where you’re thinking of something morbid and painful.” With a soft sigh, Oikawa slumped where he was sitting and busied himself with running his fingers through Matsukawa’s curly locks soothingly, not enough to disturb the deceivingly peaceful third year from slumber. The hair was greasy and gross enough that Oikawa’s nose scrunched up, but unwashed hair was the last of their worries out here.

“I was thinking of home. Of- Of the place we abandoned; the one place where we belonged, but can’t return to. All the people who made it our home. All the- the words left unspoken and the regrets we carried. Did you know I had an argument with my mum that morning, Iwa-chan?” Tears glistened and swell in Oikawa’s eyes, his face screwing up in distress that he tried to swallow back down even as the tears spilt over and his frown wobbled, threatening to burst into a chasm of wails. Iwaizumi guiltily shook his head. He hadn’t walked with Oikawa to school that morning. He’d had no _idea_ that there had been an argument.

“I don’t even remember what it was about. Something so- so small and stupid, but do you know what she did? She kissed me on the forehead and told me we’d sort it out when we get home, and Iwa-chan, I- I said _“the world can fall to pieces, for all I care.”_ , but I do care, Iwa-chan! Now it’s happened, I do care!” He burst into tears, attempting to muffle them with both hands over his mouth, but the more he tried to hold back, the harder the grief fought to come out. 

Iwaizumi felt his chest constrict in similarity. Slowly, he moved to sit down next to Oikawa and wrap and arm around his shoulders, pulling him in close so that annoying perfectly bed hair pressed against his cheek. He said nothing, just firmly held his best friend there, with silent tears dripping down his cheeks, whilst Oikawa mourned and bawled into the warm crook of his neck. 

When stifled wails turned into hiccups that jolted his entire body, Oikawa pulled away and looked up at Iwaizumi. He blinked slowly, silently communicating. _Thank you._

“Don’t mention it, Kusokawa. C’mon. Wake Kindaichi up and we’ll go to breakfast.”

“Eh? I thought I was waking Mattsun?”

“You can if you want~.” Iwaizumi’s forced smirk had Oikawa puff his cheeks out in mild irritation, before he crawled over to the still sleeping first year. He frowned. Was Kindaichi’s chest even moving? With anxious thoughts creeping up on him, the first thing the setter did was place two fingers to Kindaichi’s neck, feeling for a pulse. He sent a prayer to Buddha above when he picked up the faint but rhythmatic fluttering of a pulse. The second sensation he registered was heat.

 _Prickling, dry heat._ His hand flew to Kindaichi’s forehead, pushing up strands of hair that had fallen loose with lack of gel. They clung to his forehead with a sweat that Oikawa instantly gulped at. Because their poor underclassman, who had already gained a concussion in this mess, was now burning up with fever.

“I- Iwa-chan, I think he’s sick! He’s all hot and sweaty and won’t wake up!” Iwaizumi instantly came over to his side, tension fraught on his face as he replaced Oikawa’s hand with his own.

“Definitely a fever. We need to get him water and ibuprofen. Can you go and get some? I’m going to try and wake him.”

“Okay!” Oikawa sprinted off, tense with worry. Kindaichi already had a concussion from a week ago, that hadn’t fully faded, and now he had a fever on top. The only thing Oikawa could think of was that he had come down with heatstroke, potentially deadly without proper treatment. 

Iwaizumi had come to the same conclusion, quietly counting each much too fast beat of the first year’s weak pulse, exhaling stressfully as he wondered why he hadn’t noticed anything beforehand. Kindaichi’s energetic nature had almost completely been drained throughout their entire journey, and Iwaizumi had simply put it down to trauma. 

He should have known better. He should have _asked_. His other hand brushed through the long, greasy hair, trying to gently wake Kindaichi from his feverish sleep.

“Hey, kid... C’mon; you need to wake up... Kindaichi... Yuutaro.” Brow furrowing and a bead of sweat slipping across the bridge of his nose, Kindaichi stirred. His long eyelashes fluttered open, beaded with saltwater and hazy, his irises dim and lacking their usual bright colour. Apart from the flush on his cheeks, he was pale and clammy.

“I- I don’t feel good, mum...” And delirious with exhaustion, Iwaizumi added to the list. Still, he couldn’t fault the kid for things that weren’t under his control.

“Shh... You’ll be okay... Can you sit up?” Kindaichi took a long moment of squinting and blinking before he nodded. With Iwaizumi’s help, he was eased into a sitting up position where he slumped heavily against the third year with a groan as the sun rose to that awkward angle, where it refracted off a vehicle and the bright beam hit Kindaichi right in the face. 

“Senpai... It’s too bright.” Iwaizumi pat his back gently, holding up his spare hand to provide just enough shadow for Kindaichi’s eyes.

“Does that help?”

“A little, yeah.”

“Kindaichi, do you remember where we are?” Again, he squinted, face scrunching up in thought.

“We’re... On our way to Johzenji? I remember there was fire, and then we... Umm... We reached the camp?”

“Good. Listen, we – Oikawa and I – think you have heatstroke. He’s gone to get you some water and ibuprofen. Do you think you’ll be okay with that?”

“I don’t have a choice. We need to keep moving, don’t we?” Iwaizumi bit his lip. They did need to keep moving, that was true, but could he really take a chance on Kindaichi’s health if they did leave immediately? There was no guarantee he would get better, but there was no guarantee he would get worse either. 

As he was thinking, the ground began to tremble. Children squealed with fear and light sleepers rocketed up, (Matsukawa was not one of those), grabbing onto those they were closest to. Iwaizumi was no exception, pulling Kindaichi closer and looking around frantically for Oikawa. A few canopy’s had collapsed, the leg poles shaken loose from the soil, but Iwaizumi could see Oikawa clinging to a pole at the medical tent, with a water bottle in the crook of his elbow and a small box in his free hand. 

The shaking stopped. At first chance, Oikawa jogged back over. Kindaichi was still tightly clinging to the front of Iwaizumi’s shirt in fear, pain evident through his expression and the whiteness of his knuckles. He looked nothing short of nauseous. 

His head continued to rumble even though the aftershock had stopped. It was like a million ripples interfering with each other inside his head, his brain hammered by the tiniest sensation, and the feeling of melting from the boiling heat that seared his skin whilst he also shivered with cold. He recalled what Iwaizumi said about heatstroke, thinking carefully about his symptoms.

He was extremely dizzy, even though he was only sitting up and leaning heavily on Iwaizumi, tiredness seeping through his limbs and muscles cramping. Bile was rising in the back of his throat which he kept fighting down, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself throwing up soon. His clothes clung to his sweaty body, which seemed to constantly drip water even though he was _so thirsty_. His head pounded and he felt weak. Too weak to protest when a small tablet was pushed past his dry, cracked lips.

“Tilt his head back, Iwa-chan. I can’t get the bottle at the right angle.” He peeled open an eye to see Oikawa weakly smile at him before his vision blurred and he was shifted so that he was partially lying down. He whined past the tablet in his mouth, weakly gripping at Iwaizumi’s shirt with the sensation of falling.

“Easy, easy... You’re okay. I’ve got you.” The voice put him at ease, but it was the sudden appearance of cool water pressing to his lips that really caught his attention. He parted them to allow the liquid through; greedily gulping it down like each mouthful was the last drop of water he’d ever encounter. The tablet swallowed with it, Kindaichi didn’t even realise that his uniform was being pushed up ready for removal. 

The water was taken away and he whined at the loss, but Oikawa had other things to focus on. He helped to remove the thick cream cardigan and tug off the thin white shirt, using the last remaining millimetres in the water bottle to dampen it. Iwaizumi pulled Kindaichi back to a sitting position so Oikawa could press the make-shift damp cloth to the back of his neck. Being athletes, they had all been made aware of the risk of heatstroke from overworking and exposure to heat. They were now remembering everything they had been taught, internally scolding themselves for not noticing sooner.

“Should we take his trousers off too?”

“No... I think I can rip them into shorts, which should work.” Oikawa nodded and opened his arms as the tired boy was transferred into them, Iwaizumi shuffling further down and starting to rip the uniform from the hem upward until he reached just above the knee, carefully manipulating the material so it was fairly evenly ripped. The sharp sound of the tearing material was what finally awoke Matsukawa. With a dark glare, he turned his head towards the scene and instantly softened. He pushed off his sleeping bag and frowned in concern.

“What’s going on?”

“Mattsun, you’re awake!”

“So it would seem. Is he okay?” He nodded towards Kindaichi as Iwaizumi sat back with the two torn trouser legs. They were too dirty to use for anything, covered in dirt and dust from their 5 days living atop The Hill, and one day of travelling.

“Heatstroke. It’s bad, but not bad enough to warrant an emergency. If he starts losing consciousness or getting consistently confused, we’ll have to find the nearest hospital.”

“I- I’ll be fine, Senpai... I won’t hold us back.” Oikawa frowned softly, still running a soothing hand through the sweat-laden hair.

“You won’t be holding us back, Kin-chan. We’re a team, a- a family. Nothing is more important that the health of each other. If you need to go to hospital, then that’s where we’ll go. Besides... We don’t really have a destination in mind. ” Softly, Kindaichi nodded, eyes fluttering closed. He was... So tired...

“Oi. Not yet, kiddo. Let’s get something to eat first, then some shade to nap in, yeah?”

“M’kay...” Oikawa rose to his feet, slinging one of Kindaichi’s arms over his shoulder, and Matsukawa automatically took the other side to support his limp weight. He gave nod to Iwaizumi, who nodded back and lead the way to where cooked food was being distributed. It was only a simple vegetable stock and potato soup, but in the wake of such disaster, it was a blessing. They hadn’t had hot food since their breakfasts on the day of the megaquake.

The others had already collected their rations, placing themselves on the plastic benches that had been provided. Having risen early, they’d managed to procure a spot right by the food provisions truck, gifting them with cool shade in the heat that gradually started building. 

The atmosphere was so dry and dusty, moisture sapped from the air like dark magic. It was unavoidable that at ground level, the heat of the sun would be greatest. Finding shade would become essential to their survival. Gaining altitude was another option, but that would mean long, arduous journeys up mountain pathways that were susceptible to landslide damage.

“What- What happened?!” Hanamaki pushed himself up from the table just as Watari slid underneath it and over the bench on the other side to come sprinting over. Kunimi looked over in confusion but also anguish, grasping the connotations immediately. Kindaichi was sick.

In the aftermath of the 10.0 earthquake that had shaken Sendai to ruin, Kindaichi was sick. They had very little medical help, few supplies at stationed areas. They had long journeys in brutal heat to try and reach safety. They had very little chance of making it to a functional, fully-stocked hospital for a while. Kunimi was scared, because it was extremely likely that if Kindaichi didn’t get better on his own, he wouldn’t get better at all. 

“Heatstroke happened. It’s okay, he’ll be okay. We’ve given him water and ibuprofen, so after some food and a rest in the shade, he should be okay.”

“How long is it usually until you hafta call a doctor?”

“Half an hour with no signs of improvement. But I think he’ll pull through. He hasn’t _vomited_ yet, even though he’s nauseous, and he seems to be coherent. We’ll see, I suppose. Waiting is all we can do...” Watari fidgeted helplessly, feeling just as useless as he had before. Not only was there nothing he – anyone – could do, but he had news that was only going to dampen the mood further. Unconsciously, he picked at the bandages on his arm. 

Matsukawa and Oikawa had led Kindaichi over to the shaded bench to sit down and eat, but Iwaizumi was still in front of him, and raised a brow at the gesture.

“What’s on your mind, Watari?” 

“I-... Umm...” He trailed off, tugging at a loose stand he had picked from the bandages. Hanamaki frowned and gave him an encouraging thwack on the back, leaving his hand to rest there in support. Watari drew in a deep breath.

“I want to stay here. When you guys all move on, I... I’m _going_ to stay here.”

“Wata- Watari, no...” He’d never heard Iwaizumi sound so small. He’d never heard Iwaizumi sound so _heart-broken_. He couldn’t bear to meet his eyes, instead dropping his gaze to the ground. Hanamaki pressed his hand in a little harder, palm flat against Watari’s back.

“He can do great stuff here, Iwaizumi. I’ve _seen_ it, believe me. There was this little girl, she was screaming, but Watari distracted her and treated her burns like it was nothing. He’s _**good.**_ ”

“You’re supporting this...?”

“How can I not? Watari has found a place to fit in, a way to help. How dare we deny him that?” Iwaizumi’s mouth hung open as he struggled to find words, only making consequent little noises that clearly showed how hurt he was. 

He licked his lips and ran a distressed hand through his hair, his entire body language just tensed up and shaking, like he was forcing himself not to run from the information, or throttle the decision out of the former libero. Eventually, he managed to summon the words that sounded dry and lost on his tongue, spoken so quietly that the breeze could have stolen them.

“Yahaba just left... We- We haven’t even adjusted to that yet... It hasn’t even set in yet, that he’s truly gone, and now you want to leave too?” Instantly, Hanamaki stepped forwards, between them, brow furrowed and a hint of a snarl at the corner of his mouth. He was livid, in a very passive-aggressive way.

“Don’t you fucking dare guilt trip him like that, Iwaizumi. Don’t you _dare_. I know it’s hard, okay, even I took a little time to come to terms with it, but what right do you have to be so selfish?! He wants to do this, he summoned the courage to _tell_ you, he **trusted** you, and you say shit like that! Who the fuck do you think you are?!” Gradually growing angrier and rising in volume, Hanamaki didn’t even realise he was towering over Iwaizumi with a furious expression of _hatred_ , until the Ace stepped back with wide eyes, the tiniest flicker of fear in them. There was no argument that Hanamaki was the scariest one of them all when he was angry. Luckily, it didn’t last long.

“Sorry. But I mean it, Iwaizumi. Smothering people won’t help them to grow. Besides, Watari’s found a way to make a positive change in this mess. That- That’s _inspiring_ , man. I don’t think we should be stopping him.” Watari stepped out from behind Hanamaki.

“Please, Senpai. I want to help people. I want to be useful, but I can’t do that within our group. Let me stay. Let me learn. When we meet again, I’ll be stronger, I’ll be able to help you all. Who knows, I might learn how to treat more than just burns. I might learn to treat blisters. Infected cuts. Heatstroke. Things that- things that we haven’t seen yet but are likely to. I want to be able to help people, but most of all, I want to learn how to help my friends. I can only do that here.” He reached out tentatively and cupped Iwaizumi’s hands between his own. After a moment, Iwaizumi silently nodded.

“I-... I don’t want you to leave... But... I won’t st-stop you. You’re a good person, Shinji. Just... Just promise you come back to us safely!” Water built up and glistened over green irises and Watari couldn’t help but give a confident grin as he nodded in confirmation.

“I promise!” Now, he only had to break it to the others and hope it went just as well. (Or better, he would prefer.)


	9. We need somewhere to belong, but that place is not here.

They had decided to leave later in the afternoon, when the sun had dropped in the sky and it was scheduled to rain. In part, this was done because they couldn’t risk Kindaichi’s illness getting worse. But it was also to spend more time with their precious friend, to exchange proper goodbyes that they had not had time to do with Yahaba.

“It’s almost time...” Lingering in the tiny shade the vehicles provided, Matsukawa and Hanamaki were on duty watching over their underclassman. Kindaichi was sleeping now, curled up between the two of them like a puppy. It was kind of cute. Iwaizumi had cleared him for sleep once his temperature had drastically come down within the first half hour, so the kid was catching up on sleep in short naps. There wasn’t much time left to do so. Hanamaki sighed, leaning back against the vehicle.

“Yeah, but... He’s gonna do great here. We don’t have to worry. Yahaba has to come this way to meet up with us too, so I guess he’ll drag Watari with him at that stage.”

“Wise words. Still, it seems wrong to be splitting up...”

“We lived together on top of a hill with nothing but bottled water and canned fish for a _week_. Of course it’s gonna feel weird after that.”

“Not as weird as it felt to share a shit-pit.” Matsukawa’s lip turned up at the memory and cringed, whilst Hanamaki just laughed.

“True, true~! Hey, Issei?”

“Yeah, ‘Hiro?”

“Even if everyone else splits... We’ll stay together, right?” Matsukawa cast a sideways glance at Hanamaki, noticing the tight clench of his jaw, the way his hands clenched and unclenched unsurely.

“Of course. Hey, we’re the meme team. We can’t split up, it would be sacrilegious.”

“Ooh yes, woo me with your big words, Mr. Class 1.” They made eye contact and burst into snickering.

“See, this is what I mean. No worries, ‘Hiro, you’d have to go through hell and high waters to get rid of me.” Hanamaki raised a thin eyebrow with a condescending look and Matsukawa quickly swallowed, wishing he could take back his words.

“Well... Yeah, okay, you’ve already done that. But you’d have to do it twice. And I’d still stay. Like a barnacle to your metal hiney.”

“Did you just imply I have buns of steel?”

“My anaconda _do_.” Hanamaki burst out in uncontrolled cackles, garnering quite a few looks at their weirdness, but Matsukawa couldn’t help chuckling along. Laughter was so rare in these days of aftermath, and every moment was to be cherished. He calmed first, brushing his gaze over the – amazingly – still dozing Kindaichi, and set upon visually locating the rest of his teammates.

Oikawa had fashioned a crude ‘volleyball’ out of their school blazers and any other garments he had found, and had since acquired a loyal gathering of children that followed him in awe and sucked up his enthusiasm for the sport with wide, innocent eyes. Iwaizumi was with them, perhaps on damage control, but he mostly looked like he was having fun with them, tutoring the kids alongside Oikawa.

Matsukawa huffed in amusement as Oikawa gently went to chuck the ball over the ‘net’, (a piece or rope tied halfway up the leg poles of two canopies), and Iwaizumi swept up a little boy who raised his arms to block, the ball falling back down on Oikawa’s side. Iwaizumi’s side burst out into victory and hugs and high-fives, the boy who had blocked the ball the centre of attention. Parents on the sidelines clapped and called out praise as they watched over the children and the friendly match, cheering on their children whilst Oikawa assured his side with a _“Don’t mind, don’t mind!”_ and encouraged them on. It was utterly **adorable** , Matsukawa loathed to admit.

They were real Coach material, something that was probably going to help them go far in life. After their volleyball careers, if they even got around to those now, there would always be coaching positions and volleyball clubs for children. He couldn’t imagine Oikawa teaching older groups though. He got too petty, comparing himself to them and refusing to help. Like he had with Kageyama back in Kiitagawa, he’d heard from the first years and Iwaizumi.

He watched them for a few points more, noticing Hanamaki was fixated on the game too, before he searched around for the others. Watari was in the medical tent, he knew that, but he caught a glimpse of their former libero stepping out to welcome someone new, and there was a band around his upper arm proudly stating he was a volunteer. Watari had absolutely beamed when it had been tied around there after registering in the camp as a volunteer worker. Now, until the camp was packed away and ready to be moved on, he was permanently stationed here unless he resigned.

Kunimi was over by the spot they had slept in last night. He was looking after the blazers that had escaped Oikawa’s grasp, their belongings secured safely inside. He seemed to be pretty relaxed, watching the clouds floating past, but Matsukawa could see his shoulders were tense, even from this distance. His hair swished as he whipped his head round to them. Blushing at being caught in the act, he turned back like he hadn’t been consistently checking. No doubt, he was worried about his best friend.

“Hey, Issei?”

“Yeah?”

“I can see everyone else, but... Where’s Kyoutani?”

“Strange. That’s exactly what I was about to ask you.”

“No but seriously, where is he?” Scanning the landscape in front of him, Matsukawa noticed a distinct lack of short, blond, and grumpy. He pushed himself up to his knees, peering over the bonnet of the military van they were sat against, and snorted loudly which descended into sniggering. As brown eyes snapped to his location, he quickly ducked back down with a hand over his mouth.

“... Is-?”

“Shh!” Hanamaki tilted his head in curiosity and then peered past the radiator grate with the same snorting sound, but it unfortunately developed into peels of giggles. He was instantly spotted.

“You got a problem?” The gruff tone, thick with self-defence, was no doubt Kyoutani. He _would_ have sounded angry if it weren’t for the heavy humiliation and the pinkish blush dusting his face. Hanamaki’s giggles turned into full blown laughter compete with tears down his face. 

Because Kyoutani was suitably decorated with flowers _everywhere_. He had a flower crown, flower bracelets, flower necklace, petals clinging to his clothing, and an unfinished flower chain in hands. Matsukawa was drawn in by Hanamaki’s laugh, his own mirth overflowing with an unabashed laugh. Kyoutani scowled and his blush deepened.

“Sh- Shut up!”

“Kyou-Nii, we’re not finished yet!” That was then the duo first noticed the girl standing behind him. She was probably about ten, covered with the same petals and flowers except she missed a crown. Kyoutani grunted before turning back around and sitting down, picking more flowers from the grassy patch to weave into the flower chain in hand. Sentimental, Hanamaki couldn’t help but watch.

It reminded him of when he’d been growing up, his sisters dragging him into tea parties, making daisy chains, and dressing up _all_ the time. More to the point, it reminded him that Kyoutani was a big brother; to a sister about the same age as the girl he was entertaining. That realisation made Hanamaki sadly smile.

“Takehiro?”

“Hm? Oh, sorry Issei~. I was just... Reminiscing.” Matsukawa followed his gaze to where Kyoutani placed the newly made flower crown over the girls head.

“Yeah... We don’t have much time to do that. Oh! Speaking of time...” As if Oikawa had read their minds from all the way across the clearing, he brought the children’s volleyball game to a halt and apologised to the disappointed children before waving over his teammates. It was time. Goodbyes and farewells, which Hanamaki was never good with, and then... They’d be leaving, minus one. Minus two, technically. None of them had really adjusted to Yahaba’s absence either.

“C’mon, Kindaichi. Time to get up and go.” Matsukawa shook the first year’s shoulder lightly, receiving a groaned response that most likely translated to ‘leave me alone’. He huffed and shook harder, Kindaichi finally raising his head and peeling open his eyes. Another groan pulled from him as he sat up, somehow still exhausted. The lingering after-effects of concussion and heatstroke mixed together had really left him feeling drained. Hanamaki slapped a hand against his bare back.

“Ow!”

“Look alive, sunshine~! We’ve got a long ways to go yet.”

“I’m awake, I’m awake...” Matsukawa stood first, stretching upwards.

“Kyoutani, we’ve been summoned.”

“Hn.” Brushing dirt from his pants, Kyoutani waved goodbye to the girl and followed his senpai and Kindaichi over to Oikawa. Nobody dared to mention the flowers, even if they stared for a few seconds. The setter clapped his hands together with a somewhat strained smile.

“It’s finally cool enough to move out, so we’ll be doing that in exactly two minutes. But first...” He placed a steady hand on Watari’s back and pushed him forwards into the centre of their little group. Instantly, Hanamaki leapt forwards and brought him into a crushing hug, the former libero laughing and returning it as best he could before there was weight on his back from Oikawa, an embrace from the side from Iwaizumi, Kunimi on the other side, and the two tallest draped over all over them. 

Kyoutani awkwardly lingered at the back, but as the hugs withdrew, he held out a fist. Watari tilted his head to the side before he understood and grinned in determination, knocking his own bandaged knuckles into it.

“We’ll meet again!”

“Osu.” It started with Kyoutani walking away first, slowly and hesitant. Reluctantly, after giving Watari a hearty thump on the back, Matsukawa followed him, glancing back over his shoulder until Hanamaki joined him at his side and they hung their heads low. They knew that if they looked back, they wouldn’t be able to leave again.

Oikawa lingered before he bowed respectfully and stepped away, pinching Iwaizumi’s sleeve and leading him away as he wiped angrily at his face, trying to brush away tears he hadn’t managed to hold back. Honestly, Oikawa felt like weeping himself, but he had to hold it together for his team. He had to be strong, a beacon of hope and encouragement. 

On the complete opposite end of the spectrum, Kunimi clung to Watari and refused to let go. He buried his face in the libero’s shoulder with a whimper. Watari forced on a smile as he ruffled his hand in Kunimi’s hair.

“Hey, come on now... This isn’t ‘goodbye forever’, just... ‘See you later’, I promise.” Pale hands, smaller than his and much daintier, clung to his shirt.

“But what if we don’t?”

“It’s a promise, Akira. I’ll always return to my _family_. That’s what you guys are.” Nodding and sniffling, Kunimi pulled away and forced himself to take steps away from the libero. He only hesitated when he realised Kindaichi was following him with silent tears of his own. He paused, taking a deep breath.

“Watari. We’ll miss you.” He turned back to their teammate with a small smile, resting a hand on Kindaichi’s back as the taller hiccupped.

“Apparently~.” He didn’t need to say that he was speaking for Kindaichi. Watari knew, breaking into a bright grin and waving with both arms as the remaining members of Seijou walked off into a pink and amber sunset, dusted with indigo hues and lavender clouds. 

Saying goodbye was heartbreaking. Saying goodbye was tearing them apart. But at the same time, it gave them strength and hope, because they knew that a simple goodbye was never enough to keep them apart. They would reunite one day, perhaps in a few days, perhaps far in the future. 

Goodbyes, however, had the power to bring back memories of loved ones and the good times. Quiet conversation and laughter kept the group alive and merry until the sky came alive with the first few stars, a hue stretching from blood orange at the horizon to navy blue above their heads, a waning gibbous moon hung like a decorative item. Light droplets of water, not strong enough to class as a shower, fell from the heavy grey clouds that moved across the sky.

“Watch where you step. The ground feels soggy here.”

“Soggy? Wait, does that mean we’re not on the road anymore!?” With a grunt, Matsukawa slowly edged forwards, tapping his foot against the ground before putting his full weight on it. He did this in different directions, until there was the distinct sound of his shoe tapping concrete.

“Oikawa, you idiot. We’re literally just in a ditch.” Had it been light enough, Oikawa would have seen the deadpan glares sent towards him from all except Kindaichi. 

“H-Heh, I knew that! I was testing you, Mattsun!” By instinct alone, he was able to dodge the fist that came flying towards his face, the brush of air against his cheek letting him know it had been a _narrow_ miss. From _Iwaizumi_ , of all people, for no reason. That had not been unintentional. A punch that close was deliberate. Oikawa’s eyebrows furrowed and his lips drew into a snarl as he raised his arm to deliver a slap. 

Hanamaki’s hand tightly gripped his wrist and pulled him backwards, preventing him from delivering the slap and pulling him out of range of a second punch. Matsukawa lunged forwards and grabbed Iwaizumi by the shoulders, shaking him slightly with aggression.

“Oi! This is no time to fight! I don’t care what kind of beef you two have going on, it’s night time and we need to keep walking. Move.” He gave Iwaizumi a shove in the direction they were supposed to be headed, crossing his arms sternly as the Ace grunted and started dragging his feet along the broken concrete.

“M-Mattsun, Makki... I’m sorry.” Hanamaki softly sighed as he released his grip.

“It’s fine. We’re all tired and tense. But we don’t have time to stop. I swear to every goddamn deity in the heavens above, if I don’t find a functional bakery soon, I’m going to _scream_. You don’t want that to happen.” Oikawa laughed, his vocal cords tense and the sound forced, but it was something. He waved a hand in the air.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry~! We’ll be at Johzenji soon! I bet they’ll have something there.” Matsukawa and Hanamaki made the mistake of dropping their guards. Because as soon as they relaxed, Oikawa charged forwards and **threw** himself at Iwaizumi with the intention to knock him down. They both hit the ground, Iwaizumi snarling and attempting to fight back but finding himself pinned down before he could even retaliate.

“What the fuck?!”

“You bastard! You tried to hit me for real!”

“Get the fuck off me, you _asshole_!”

“Why did you try to **punch** me, Hajime?!”

“I hit you all the time, Kusokawa!”

“ _THIS WAS DIFFERENT!!! _” Oikawa’s sharp cry echoed in the night time silence, even the crickets silenced, as he descended into heavy pants, dropping his head to Iwaizumi’s shoulder as he shook.__

__“You’re scared, Iwa-chan, I know that... B-But I can’t forgive you for trying to do that. That is _not_ coping, and you know it.” Nobody dared move. They held their breathes, prepared to lunge forwards to intercept an fight if it escalated to that, but then Iwaizumi went completely limp beneath Oikawa’s stance, his chest heaving as a whimper tore itself from his throat. Then another. Then another._ _

__Shoulders dropped and hearts broke as they listened and watched their ace – their _friend_ \- break into cries of anguish. It was times like these they were reminded how secretly fragile Iwaizumi was. He took the world upon his shoulders. He took the blame even if it was completely coincidental. He fell, so many times, because he felt responsible for everything. Matsukawa realised with a jolt that Iwaizumi had barley spoken a word since they left Watari at the camp._ _

___He was blaming himself the whole time and they hadn’t even noticed._ _ _

__“E-Everyone’s leaving!” The choked out words, thick with grieving and panic, cut through any remaining tension and aggression like a knife, rendering them full of guilt and holding back their own tears as the pillar of their team crumbled. Matsukawa felt his fists clench and eyes water, shoulders shaking. He heard Hanamaki next to him draw in a sharp breath, and then whip his head away as he caved too._ _

__It transported Matsukawa back to their loss against Karasuno, but the implications here were much more serious. They weren’t all together. They were splitting, drifting apart. They were individually breaking away and taking pieces of their Aces heart with them. Oikawa slowly moved to pull Iwaizumi into a hug, still sitting on his lap, rubbing his back with gently whispered words of comfort._ _

__“It’s okay, Iwa-chan. We’re here now, we’re here. Nobody else is leaving, we’re all sticking together, I promise. And they’ll come home. Watacchin and Yahaba-chan will always return home, to us.” Slowly, Kunimi stepped in. He tugged lightly at Iwaizumi’s sleeve as he dropped to his knees next to him, and when green eyes turned to him, he opened his arms in a shy but pleading gesture._ _

__The corners of Oikawa’s lips gently turned upwards and he lifted an arm to make room for Kunimi as Iwaizumi reached out and wrapped an arm around the first year’s waist, drawing him in to the comforting hug. Kindaichi wasn’t far behind, but he chose to stay right at Kunimi’s back, leaning against him as his hand replaced where Oikawa’s had been, rubbing Iwaizumi’s back in a sympathetic way. Oikawa drew in a sharp breath and stood up._ _

__“Get up! You’re stronger than this!” Slowly, wiping his face with his sleeve, Iwaizumi drew himself to his feet. His face morphed into determination and Oikawa smiled in an accomplished manner._ _

__“Good. Let’s keep moving.” He all but thumped Iwaizumi on the back, forcefully pushing him the first few steps. Matsukawa exhaled in slow relief, shoving his hands in his pockets and following Oikawa as he took the lead once more. Kyoutani hesitated, probably confused by the exchange before him. One minute they’d been fighting, then Oikawa had been laughing, then they’d been fighting again, followed by tears, hugs, and carrying on? It was... Astounding. Hard to understand. Hanamaki pat the second year on the back encouragingly._ _

__“Don’t worry; they have spats like this at least once a month.”_ _

__“... At _least_?”_ _

__“Yeah, it’s their kind of ‘thing’. You’ll find out for yourself~.”_ _

__“Great...” He had no idea how long they were going to be together, how far they had to travel. All Kyoutani knew was that he didn’t want them to fight again. Because it was troublesome, he told himself. He ignored the part of him that whispered back _‘because you are family now.’__ _

__In a situation where they were struggling to survive, they didn’t need to add internal turmoil to that list. He grunted, letting his feet guide the way as his body automatically followed the six in front. They walked in pairs. He walked alone. Even when Yahaba and Watari had been there, he walked alone. But for once, he didn’t drag the soles of shoes reluctantly, and he didn’t try to drop back further, to escape the idiocy of this gathering._ _

__He kept pace with them, within arm’s reach. He lingered right on their heels, because he was a part of them, because he needed them, because just being together wasn’t enough. They’d lost everything. They’d fought to survive this far. Kyoutani hadn’t been with them on The Hill, through the worst of it. But he could see they had changed, that they had been affected in extraordinary and traumatic ways. Yet they fought on. They battled their own hardships, and the experiences life threw at them, because they wanted to survive._ _

__But being together wasn’t enough anymore. They needed somewhere to belong._ _

__Walking at night and napping in the shade throughout the day had done wonders for Kindaichi. He was feeling much better, looking much brighter, and he was much more like himself. Occasionally, he was caught off guard by a wave of dizziness or felt fatigue tugging at his mind, but he was altogether healing well. Kunimi could finally breathe properly, a huge weight off his shoulders as he watched his best friend returning to life._ _

__“Oikawa-san, how long until we reach Johzenji?” The captain hummed in thought. It had been a while since they’d seen the town appear on the horizon and it had drawn closer as they travelled yet they still had not reached it. Johzenji was not, however, very far from their grasp._ _

__“Let’s see... We left Ougiminami three days ago. We’re travelling about 5 miles an hour... I’d estimate about ten minutes.” Kunimi groaned, mostly because his feet were sore but also because he was hungry and wanted to stop for a break._ _

__Oikawa’s quick mental calculation appeared to correct when they reached the signpost for Johzenji just over ten minutes later. They were met with yellow cautionary tape. They were met with people in orange hazmat suits. They were met with the sight of a safe haven completely off limits._ _

__“Wh- What happened?!” With a frown, Oikawa held up a hand to reassure Kindaichi and calmly walked towards one of the workers who had come up to the tape as the teenagers came into view. Kunimi didn’t know why, but something told him they were going to be stuck there a while. Slipping his shoes off, he sat on a nearby patch of grass and took a sip from a water bottle. It was a good thing they’d stocked up before leaving the refuge._ _

__“Don’t get too comfy, Kunimi.”_ _

__“I won’t, senpai. I’m just resting my feet.” Matsukawa nodded and put his hands on his hips as Hanamaki flopped into the grass next to Kunimi and Kindaichi hovered nervously near the back. Iwaizumi and Kyoutani were off to the side, discussing something that must have been incredibly passionate to the both of them, if their grins and the excited sparkle in each of their eyes was anything to go by. He huffed with soft amusement before turning his attention to just up the road and his face just dropped, like his stomach. Oikawa was walking back towards them with an extremely grave expression._ _

__“Oikawa...?” There were small dents in Oikawa’s dry lips where he had been biting down on it in frustration. His fists clenched and his brow furrowed downwards in angry distress._ _

__“Johzenji is a quarantine zone. We can’t stay here.”_ _

__“Qu-Quarantine!?” Oikawa nodded slowly, lifting his gaze. In his eyes, there was furious grief. For the victims, strangers he had never met, he was sad. For the circumstances, the fact that their country had not been prepared, he was _enraged_._ _

__“Bodies started to rot and decay before they could be recovered. The whole town is dealing with an epidemic.” Matsukawa caught the little flicker of Oikawa’s eyes, towards Kindaichi. He nodded in agreement. The kid was already sick, although rapidly improving, they couldn’t hang around too long. If the diseases were airborne, his immune system was too weak to fight off the sickness that came from rot._ _

__“Where to next then, Captain?”_ _

__“About a mile up the forest path, there should be a bus stop. Apparently there’s a convoy replacing the usual bus and it can take us to _Karasuno_.” He spat the word like dirt. Oikawa’s hatred of Karasuno was nothing new. Not only because they had Kageyama, but because they had beaten Aobajosai. They had beaten **Shiratori**. Karasuno had done what Seijou had failed to do, and that had essentially added fuel to the fire of hatred. A strong hand landed on Oikawa’s back, firm and steady._ _

__“Lead the way, Kusokawa.” Taking a deep breath to hide his giggle, Oikawa took the front, his solid back paving the way for the team to follow. Like always, Iwaizumi was right on his heels. He didn’t break conversation with Kyoutani, however, the second year walking by his side and grunting or giving the occasional input. Hanamaki ushered Kunimi to his feet and the first years walked in front of them._ _

__“Urgh, so much walking. And still no cream puff.” Matsukawa wasn’t proud of the snorting laughter that escaped him._ _

__“Hold in there, ‘Hiro. I’m sure we’ll find some soon~.”_ _

__“Who am I kidding? Cream would’ve completely gone off by now.”_ _

__“Maybe Karasuno still has electricity. We might be able to have fresh cooked meals... Desserts... We could charge our phones.” Hanamaki grinned at him._ _

__“Good idea! We wouldn’t want our phones to be dead when our precious kouhai ring~.” A low rumbling interrupted them. Through their soft indoor shoes, they could feel tremors in the ground. In the middle of this forest path, surrounded by trees, they were completely vulnerable. Instinctually, they all crouched low to the ground. Nobody would dare mention the way Oikawa moved closer to Iwaizumi and wrapped an arm over him, both in protection and comfort._ _

__“Tch! Another aftershock!?” Loose soil beneath their feet danced with the trembling earth, pebbles bouncing and pine needles sliding down the small slope of the path. Suddenly, Kyoutani bolted._ _

__“Kyou-Ken!”_ _

__“It’s a fucking landslide! Run, you morons!” Kindaichi was the first to scramble to his feet and follow Kyoutani’s lead, Kunimi right behind him. Hanamaki made to go with them, but hesitated when he noticed that Oikawa and Iwaizumi hadn’t moved. Or rather, couldn’t move. There was no way Oikawa would leave Iwaizumi, and the latter was consumed in what Hanamaki could describe as a petrifying panic attack._ _

__He had his hands clamped tightly over his ears, elbows tucked in as far beneath his chin as far as he could, curling around his stomach in a tiny ball. Saltwater dripped from wide, the pupils dilated to such a circumference, they appeared pure black instead of green. His mouth was firmly closed, the corners of his lips wobbling. It took Hanamaki only milliseconds to register this and his body reacted before he could think. He ran towards them, noting Matsukawa was right behind him._ _

__“You’re stronger, get Iwaizumi!”_ _

__“Okay!” Matsukawa latched onto Oikawa’s wrist, tugging him down the forest path they had just walked up. Oikawa tried to stammer out a protest, but out of his peripheral vision, realised Hanamaki had swept Iwaizumi up into a fireman’s hold and was carrying him. He couldn’t see Iwaizumi’s face. He could tell by the shudder of his shoulders that he was shaking, terrified. Oikawa had thought his phobia of earthquakes would have at least been desensitized a little, but it seemed to be working in the opposite way._ _

__“Over here!” From behind a rock face, Kyoutani waved. The landslide was catching on them. They could hear it roaring, feel the ground beneath their feet rumbling, but they didn’t dare look over their shoulders to see if the wave of debris was visible yet._ _

___‘Wave of debris?’_ It suddenly occurred to Oikawa that Iwaizumi was not petrified by the aftershock alone. It was the landslide itself. It was like a torrent of water, but heavier. It was murderous, it would bury them alive. It was like the tsunami that had killed his father in 2011. It was full of boulders and rocks that crushed the person he used to sit next to in class. This landslide was a nightmare come true for the Ace._ _

__Somehow, with seconds to spare, the third years managed to skid into the small crevice Kyoutani had found, sheltered with a rock formation that was too large to be shifted by the small aftershock and the pounding landslide. It was their saving grace, because without it, they would have been crushed by the powerful flow of debris. They watched with morbid fascination and fear as the forest, with all its mighty trees and rocks and layers upon layers of soil, poured past their hiding place like a waterfall. All the powers of the seemingly unyielding nature seemed like nothing when these huge pines were carried like toothpicks down a vast stream of liquefied earth._ _

__“... Okay...” They heard Kyoutani’s surprisingly soft exhale, as if he was answering an internal question, before he stepped out. The new layers of earth were springy and spongy beneath his foot, but under the soft layer there was a hardness that would have buried them alive before settling and crushing them to death._ _

__“It’s safe to come out.” Experimentally, Kunimi followed, then Matsukawa. They stepped around a little further, testing the consistency._ _

__“It’s sturdy enough that I don’t _think_ there’ll be another one. I would suggest waiting to check, but... If it rains, it’ll definitely loosen up the soil again.” Comforted by the third year’s words, Kindaichi emerged from their life-saving shelter._ _

__“It’s really... Spongy.” They snickered at his awe, squidging the ground beneath his feet with fascination. Kunimi couldn’t help but wonder if he was going a little crazy. Slowly, with Oikawa and Hanamaki trailing behind, dragging Iwaizumi with them, Seijou continued up the forest path until they reached a dirt road, clearly in frequent use from the deep tires tracks through freshly churned soil. Within sight, an upturned bench and a post that had been freshly hammered into the ground, stating it as an evacuation point. This was where the convoy vehicle would come._ _

__“We can finally sit down~!” Oikawa’s cheer was met with a genuine burst of happiness from Kunimi, picking up the pace and speed walking over to the bench. He flipped it back the right way and slumped over it with a delighted sigh. He didn’t even move when Hanamaki jogged over and sat on his back. Simply grunted, and continued to rest._ _

__“Hey, Captain! How long until that convoy gets here?”_ _

__“... I may have forgotten to ask about that minor detail.” Oikawa eased Iwaizumi into sitting upright, checking he was okay and calming down before turning back to his other friends and pulling his signature pose. Matsukawa rolled his eyes and pulled Oikawa into a headlock, the setter shrieking and attempting to pull away before Hanamaki leapt from his seat on Kunimi’s back to join in the fray, toppling them to the floor. The three third years rolled around on the dusty ground like _children_ , and Kyoutani rolled his eyes. Honestly, was he the only mature one left?_ _

__Kunimi wasn’t bothered by the playful scuffle, watching from the bench with a small smile. Kindaichi kept trying to step in and break it up, but backed off when flailing limbs came too close. Iwaizumi hadn’t yet calmed down, so Kyoutani could forgive him for not intervening this once._ _

__But honestly... It was refreshing to see these idiots acting like their usual selves again. Like they were completely carefree, standing on this dirt road optionally. For a moment, Kyoutani almost believed they were waiting for the bus to take them back to school after a game. He fully understood, however, that heading back to Aobajosai was just heading back to rubble and emptiness. No warm home to return to. No parents to welcome them home, placing a hot meal on the table. No siblings excitedly questioning how the day went. Everything they knew, every routine they had, place they cherished, or person they loved... All of it had been destroyed._ _

__“Senpai! Is that...?!” The grumble of an engine alerted them to a vehicular presence before the sight of it did, appearing from around the corner at low speed. Scrambling apart, the third years got back to their feet. Oikawa jumped up and down enthusiastically, waving his arms like it was a celebration, whilst Matsukawa and Hanamaki shared a double high five. The look of excitement on Kindaichi’s face reflected that of Oikawa’s, childish glee rising to the surface as they witnessed an escape to _safety_. Even if it was Karasuno._ _

__The convoy rolled to a stop, a uniformed soldier exiting the vehicle from the passenger side and bowing in greeting to the group of teenagers. Politely, they returned the bow in synchronisation, before he led them to the back and pulled back the canvas material to allow them on board. There were fold down seats on either side, with supplies hanging from hooks above them or in small boxes they could rest their feet on._ _

__“Try to be careful of the equipment, and stay seated. The journey will take about 2 hours.”_ _

__“Thank you, sir!” The flap was sealed once more, and as the engine started with a soft vibrato, tension ebbed out of their sore, exhausted bodies. They were heading to safety, to somewhere they could create a place to belong. Even if it was the home of the team who defeated them at the Spring Preliminaries, they were relived to be heading somewhere familiar._ _

__Even if it was the people who had once been their opponents, there would be faces they recognised. Voices they remembered. People who could not be called friends, but were acquaintances. After all they had been through, any sense of familiarity was welcome. (Except Ushiwaka, Oikawa had made clear earlier.)_ _

__The drive to Karasuno got smoother as they left the broken road, heading into less destroyed areas. At some point, Hanamaki had managed to egg Matsukawa into a game of Jan-ken-po, and it had turned into a competition between those who were awake enough to play along. Kunimi sat next to Iwaizumi, resting his head on the Ace’s broad shoulder, the two of them quietly observing and talking between each other in low volumes, placing bets with no real consequence._ _

__“Okay, lads! We’re here! Feel free to pull back the tarp and take a look.” Sitting closest to the tarp, Kyoutani reached out and yanked it back. Sunlight flooded in and the group squinted painfully before glancing back out. The town rolled past and their eyes widened in awe and happiness that swelled in their chests._ _

___It wasn’t broken._ _ _

__There were shattered windows and cracks in the pavement, as well as precariously leaning lampposts, but compared to the messes they had seen, the tragedy they had experienced, Karasuno was a welcome change. Psychologically, it appeared to be better off too. People were talking and laughing, and filling the streets with their everyday business._ _

__As they watched a shopkeeper step out of some kind of konbini, Oikawa was struck with recognition. He knew that face. He’d seen it in the stands at their match against Karasuno. The shopkeeper looked up by chance and caught sight of them, face morphing into surprise, his mouth forming an ‘o’ shape and eyebrows raised. Oikawa saw him whip out a mobile phone before they turned a corner. Mind working quickly, the setter concluded that the network must be working in this area, and pulled out his own device._ _

__“Oikawa? What’re you doing?”_ _

__“I just saw someone on the phone! We should try ours too!” He unlocked the screen, letting out a cry of delight when he saw the signal bars half full. Instantly, he went to the compose message screen._ _

__“Oi.” His eyes lifted to meet Iwaizumi’s._ _

__“Don’t forget, Yahaba and Watari might not have signal where they are.”_ _

__“I know, Iwa-chan~. But, if I send it now, they’ll receive it as soon as they get signal!”_ _

__“Make sure they know about Johzenji. And tell them to stick together.”_ _

__“I will~.” The vice gave an approving nod, and Oikawa set about drafting a message._ _

_____ To; Watacchin; Yahabaaaaaa~ _  
_Guess who~??? It’s me, your marvellous senpai!_  
Important update! We’re in Karasuno at the time of sending, so make your way here when you’re ready~.  
Don’t go near Johzenji! There’s a lot of sickness! Iwa-chan-kaa-san says stick together, and we all miss you looooaaaads!  
Hurry back to us. 

__He smiled as the message sent, not realising there were hot tears dripping down his face. He missed them. He missed the two so much. He just wanted them home, with the team._ _

__Nobody else mentioned the silent sobs, holding back tears of their own. Being apart just didn’t feel right._ _


	10. Safe haven!

The second the convoy vehicle pulled into Karasuno high school grounds, the team were welcomed with a couple of familiar faces. With orange ‘volunteer’ bands around their upper arms, the coach and teaching advisor of the volleyball club were standing there with relief written all over their expressions. 

“Shimada was right, it is them.”

“Thank goodness you’re okay! We saw the footage on TV and instantly panicked!” Coach Ukai gave them a hand off, the drop from the vehicle to the ground higher than they remembered from clambering on, whilst the Teaching advisor – Takeda? – checked them over for injuries and infection as he babbled frantically. The only one capable of keeping up seemed to be Hanamaki.

“We were lucky. The evac point was close to the school, and we followed our gut instinct.”

“Is it just you, or-...?” Hanamaki’s face fell, biting into his bottom lip temporarily to hold back a heavy, weary sigh of heartbreak.

“Us, two other members, and our Coach. Nobody else...” Takeda paused in passing over a full, _blissfully cool_ water bottle to give him a sincere look, devoid of pity but full of understanding.

“I’m sorry for your loss. But you will be welcome here, as friends.” Hanamaki whispered a thank you, genuinely touched, before Ukai cleared his throat loudly as to draw their attention.

“If you go past the gym, you should see the building for clubrooms. We only have a few emergency rooms already set up, so it may be a tight squeeze, but you’ll have to fit at least three in each-.”

“We stay together. All of us.” Ukai ran a hand through his hair stressfully, tousling the blond strands with a lengthy exhale.

“You’re gonna be completely squashed.”

“It’s fine. We spent five days huddling together for warmth in what can only be referred to as hell. Just to be offered a roof is generous of you, and we’re very grateful.” It was in times like these that the team was reminded of how polite Iwaizumi was when it came to adults, or just situations that required grace and elegance. He was firm in what he was saying, in such a way it was impossible to deny, yet spoke so politely that no-one would want to resist anyways. Ukai too, found himself reassured in Seijou’s decision.

“Alright. You boys go and secure and room. We’ll find you clothes for after your showers.” Oikawa’s eyes lit up like Christmas lights.

“Showers~?!” Takeda softly laughed at the enthusiasm.

“Yes, I’ll show you the way once you’ve settled.”

“NO. No. I mean, please show me the showers first. I have worn these clothes for over a _week_ , living in **dirt** , and sweating more than after a volleyball _**three-set match.**_ I will get down on my knees and beg if I have to.”

“Kusokawa, have you no shame?!”

“I’m _dying_ for a way to get clean.” Ukai had taken the chance to escape whilst he could, informing Takeda quietly that he was going to find some clothes for these poor boys, who looked like they’d fought on the frontlines in a world war. He hadn’t mentioned the last part, obviously, but the pang of sympathy in his chest was genuine and near painful. They were just kids. Just high-schoolers who had yet to make their mark on this world. They were just like-

“Coach! Is it true? The rumour that there are new arrivals?” Suga and Daichi were jogging down the school hallway to meet him, the latter with two blankets in hands. Ukai’s lips twitched up in a smile at their eagerness to help.

“It’s true. We’ll need more blankets than that, there’s 7 of them.”

“Seven?!”

“Mhm. All the way from Aobajosai. In fact, they could probably do with some familiar faces to show them around.” Suga tilted his head to the side, eyebrows darting up to join his fringe.

“Familiar? You don’t mean... It’s Seijou, isn’t it?” 

“Spot on. Takeda’s showing ‘em to the showers, but I could use your help taking the extra stuff to the set up rooms.”

“We can do that.” Daichi was first to follow Ukai’s lead, whilst Suga made for the doorway the Coach had come through and peered out. He caught sight of dirty, torn Aobajosai uniformed backs, before he tore his gaze away. Something about them, despite their strength, screamed that they were brittle and vulnerable. It felt wrong to look at them, as if doing so would put them behind glass in a freak show exhibition. Because here were boys who had come from a near-coastal town, beaten and bedraggled, with nothing but the clothes on their backs and whatever had remained in their pockets.

“Thank you.” Daichi stepped back with his arms laden with folded up blankets. Ukai started passing pillows over to Sugawara.

“Can you manage all of these?”

“I can try. If not, I’ll come back for more.”

“Sure. I think I can trust you with the key.” Seeing as Suga was buried beneath four pillows, resting his chin atop them so he could see where he was going, Ukai slipped the key into his pocket instead.

“Put ‘em in the baseball club room. That’s the biggest we’ve got and they’re reliant on sticking together. Couldn’t say no to the brats, after what they’ve been through.” Suga partially understood. He’d gotten the same feel just from watching them walk away. But at the same time, he had no clue whatsoever. He hadn’t been there. He hadn’t seen the things they had. He hadn’t suffered loss like them. 

At the end of the day, Suga could leave the school grounds and go back to his house to eat a meal cooked by his mother and then sleep in a warm, comfy bed, almost oblivious to the quieter aftershocks. The news footage that everyone had seen on TV showed Aobajosai to be a flattened wasteland. Honestly, Suga had labelled it a graveyard. He had been sure no one would ever emerge from that mess.

“Yes, Coach.” The older was already walking away, towards the school’s lost and found wardrobe. In the aftermath of the earthquake, the school had become the only refuge for anyone who had lost their homes or needed somewhere to seek support. Henceforth, donations had poured in from the residents that had been least affected. 

Along with what was there from before the quake struck, the lost and found wardrobe was almost overflowing. Ukai had been exceptionally pleased that his boys – because dammit, he’d gotten attached – had brought in some of their own clothing to donate. In this case, it was a relief. 

The members of Seijou were taller than the Japanese average, and muscle mass may also increase their sizes too. Considering this, he grumbled as he sorted through the available clothing. He haphazardly guessed that most of them were between Tsukishima and Tanaka’s height, so he compiled together the clothing donated from Tanaka, himself, Yamaguchi, Kageyama, Asahi, and Tsukishima. 

The last set of clothing was a complete guess. He hoped it wasn’t too small. Or, looking at the cyan leggings with pineapples imprinted all over, too offensive. Still, from the state they were in, he was sure they’d be thankful for any clean and unspoiled clothing.

“Ukai-kun, do you have they key for the storage?” He made a questioning sound, tilting his head to peer over his shoulder at Takeda whilst he continued to fold the clothes neatly into a pile.

“No, I gave it to Sugawara. He should be coming back this way for more pillows soon.”

“Thank you! I should’ve remembered to get the towels first.”

“Towels? Oh, those should be in the science rooms, freshly washed. Should be dry by now, actually.” Takeda bowed respectfully before dashing off to fetch the towels. They weren’t anything special or fancy, just the standard that came with shelter camp provisions. Karasuno were lucky to be registered as such, considering they were more like a brief resting place before people travelled onwards. Everyone seemed to be determined to get as far inland as possible, or travel to relatives homes for temporary living, just until their homes were rebuilt. Takeda wasn’t sure if Aobajosai would ever be rebuilt, considering just how _devastated_ it had been by the quake and then the wave. These boys had nowhere else to go, nowhere to return to. He was determined to make a home for them at Karasuno.

With the towels slung over his arms, Takeda picked up the pace to jog back to the shower room. He had an inkling that most of them would only take a minimal amount of time, guided more by their exhaustion than the desperation to be clean. The teacher had never seen anyone so thankful for running water until Oikawa Tooru. It was amusing to see how different he was off the court compared to being conniving and collected throughout a game. The amusement faded when he thought over how these _children_ were marvelling at flowing water and a safe place to sleep like it was some kind of miracle, or blessing. It hurt him, knowing that they had been so depraved; the simplest things became a luxury bestowed upon them by rescuers.

“Excuse me! I’ve brought you towels, if you’re ready.” There were a few seconds of commotion before one of the boys, with scruffy black hair that remained curled even though it was soaked, opened the door dripping wet with just a pair of boxers on. He nonchalantly took the towels with a small, strained smile.

“Thanks.” The door closed, and Takeda heard hell break loose through from the room.

_“You fuckin’ **jerks**! Pushing me out like that, it’s fucking **cold**!”_ A caterwaul of loud cackles and laughter followed, and the distinctive sound of towels being whipped against bare skin. The teacher winced, but his lips twitched upwards anyways and his eyes sparkled. Aobajosai was lost and destroyed, but Seijou were not. They were home in each other and they bore hope. They were strong, as a group of people as well as a team.

Takeda took a few steps away from the door, towards Ukai as he came walking over calmly with the pile of clothes in arms. He nibbled his bottom lip in nervous excitement, wringing his hands together. Ukai immediately picked up on it, pausing.

“... What have you got planned?”

“Ukai, do you think our boys would be interested in setting up the net?” He almost dropped the clothes.

“Sensei, are you being serious?! These kids just got here, they’re probably exhausted.” A loud holler from inside as someone was obviously whipped in a sensitive area, followed by hyena-like guffaws, had Ukai promptly deadpan stare at the door, as if they had planned to prove him wrong on cue. Takeda hid a giggle behind his hand.

“I think they need an outlet for their energy. And honestly, we could all use a distraction.” With a deep sigh, the young Coach relented.

“Tell Kageyama and Tanaka to start setting up the net. Then, tell Hinata. He’ll rally the team in the blink of an eye.” 

“Yes! Please pass on the message!” Takeda jogged off, with higher spirits than either of them had had for the past few days. Ukai couldn’t help but huff out a laugh before awkwardly shifting the clothes in his arms and knocking on the door with his elbow.

“You have 5 seconds to cover up, I’m coming in!” There was shuffling from inside as Ukai counted down, and just before he hit one, a deep voice he recognised as their number 3 called out that it was okay. Pushing the door open with his shoulder, he held out the clothes with a grin, watching as they lit up. Some, more enthusiastically than others.

“Holy _fuck_ , I want **those**!” The pineapple printed cyan leggings that Ukai feared were offensive were swept up by Hanamaki instantly, holding them up in awe and marvelling at them like they were the best thing in the world. Oikawa and Matsukawa were cracking up, Kunimi huffed in amusement, Kindaichi watched on with confusion, whilst Iwaizumi and Kyoutani had identical expressions that suggested they regretted everything. Ukai clapped a hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ve had five years to get used to this.”

“You survived five years with... That?” ‘That’ was the only word Ukai could summon for what was happening in front of him. Hanamaki had, in the blink of an eye, changed into the garish leggings and pulled on an equally bright top - neon pink, in fact. He was proudly posing as Matsukawa poked at his ribs, telling him to _‘Get out, let me try. I can make it work.’_ , and Oikawa whining that it wasn’t fair he got the brightest, most colourful clothes.

“Yeah. Don’t ask how, it’s a mystery to me.” Kunimi seemed quite happy with the shades of grey and black he had dressed himself in, whilst Kindaichi found a white shirt that had a red and blue star on each sleeve, and some light jeans. At least they had managed to dress themselves properly, Ukai thought. 

Hanamaki refused to change out of his preposterous tropical taste in clothing, leaving Matsukawa and Oikawa to rummage through the pile, squabbling over what they wanted and holding up outfits to either snicker at or compliment. Kyoutani took Iwaizumi’s example and hung back, quite satisfied with just the towel around his waist until the madness stopped.

That was, until he saw the red shirt with a white bulldog face on the front. He didn’t know what the English words around it meant, but he wanted it. Henceforth, he swiped it straight out of Oikawa’s hands before the setter could even register.

“H-hey! Kyou-Ken-Chan!” Any lecture Oikawa was about to give was cut off with Iwaizumi’s calm tone.

“Kyoutani, you shouldn’t snatch. Next time, ask for something politely.”

“Hn.”

“... Iwa-chan, are you his mum?” The light-hearted mood was instantly replaced with a cold, heartless chill. But it wasn’t Iwaizumi giving off glares or getting ready to scold. It was Kyoutani, who tugged on the shirt almost viciously as he turned his back on them, eyes burning with fury and grief even though his low growl and sharp glare seemed to freeze even time.

“My mum’s dead.” Oikawa sucked in a breath, feeling like his lungs had been sapped of everything. Normally, he would try to lighten up the mood. But today wasn’t normal. Nothing was normal. He stepped forwards, wrapping his arms around Kyoutani from behind in a supportive hug.

“Yeah... Mine too. But- But it’s okay, y’know? Everything was over so quickly... I don’t think they would have been in pain. And... I think your mum would be proud of you. So, so proud. Because even though there was nothing to say we were alive, Kyou-Ken came back to us. You came out with the rescue efforts and helped us. She- I didn’t know your mum, but she would be so proud of you right now. I bet she’s boasting to all the other parents up there, waiting for their reincarnation.” Kyoutani’s shoulders shuddered. Oikawa hugged a little tighter.

“Y-You really think so?”

“Mhm~. All our families... Would be super happy that we’re okay. That would be enough. Your mum- Your entire _family_ \- would be telling you that you did the right thing, if they could. S-same with Yahaba-chan, and Watacchin... And Makki, and Mattsun and Kin-chan and Kunimi-chan and Iwa-chan! All of our parents...” 

“Oikawa.” He lifted his face, already contorting into ugly tears, to meet with Iwaizumi’s strange, sincere expression.

“You too. Your mum... Would be proud of you too.” That was all it took for the dam to break and Oikawa slowly descended into heart wrenching sobs that escalated into wails, setting off a chain reaction.   
Kyoutani grit his teeth and clenched his fists, channelling all his energy into keeping silent as he choked on emotion.   
Kindaichi openly cried, wiping the palms of his hands against his face continuously as if he could wipe away the emptiness in his heart with the constant stream of tears.   
Quieter, Kunimi elapsed into whimpers, burying his face in his hands with his head in his lap, hunched over as he sat on the bench.  
Together, Matsukawa and Hanamaki sank to the floor, each supporting the other as they fell in slow-motion. Much like Kyoutani, they were trying to choke down the cries, but were much less successful. Matsukawa ended up actually choking. Hanamaki made the same sounds as Kunimi, but with donkey-esque breathing thrown in.   
Slowly, Iwaizumi kept his head down, but turned to the Coach.

“I think we need a moment, if you’d please...?” Ukai felt like he had trespassed, watching the boys crumble into their emotions. But he didn’t dare try to offer them comfort. He knew they needed this. It was healthy to grieve, especially if they’d held it in for so long. Silent as he could, Ukai retreated out the door and closed it softly behind them. He didn’t need to be a genius to work out they had been holding it in whilst he was there. As soon as the door clicked shut, they cried freely. He would probably be able to hear them even if he walked away.

But then, the heartbroken cries of children were haunting. They clung to the mind and echoed in the ears of the adults who had failed to protect them, or help them feel safe.  
Cries like that, Ukai had thought until recently, only happened in the darkest of nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was only short, so I'm really sorry about that!  
> The truth is that I'm back at work this week, so writing time has been cut down dramatically.  
> For that reason, updates are going to be slower too. Instead of every two days, it's going to be twice a week.  
> Sorry for any inconvenience! You guys are so amazing, so I hope this is okay for you.  
> (Also, I will forever love anyone who draws Makki's outfit. Bless this child.)


	11. An actual game!

In a flurry of excitement, Hinata ran through the school corridors with Natsu on his back, his younger sister laughing loudly as he whooped and cheered.

“Coach says we can play in the gym! We can play volley _baaaaaaaall!!!_ ” His calls attracted the rest of the team, their low spirits lifted with the simple sentence. They’d gone from playing twice a day, to not having played at all in six days. To hear Hinata’s bright cry as he raced through the hallways was a godsend.

Not just because they were finally allowed to play volleyball once more, but because Hinata had been down these past few days. All his smiles, his happiness and cheer, had been false and forced. In front of his sister, he’d been the bright sunshine boy everyone knew him as, comforting her by keeping her laughing and entertained. But when Natsu had been in the care of others, his smile had crumbled inwards and he’d looked _tired_ , more than anything else.

The team knew why. As soon as it had been declared safe to leave the school by the authorities, Hinata had grabbed his bike and cycled first to Natsu’s kindergarten and brought her back to his classmates, and then he’d disappeared for another hour. He came back with tearstreaks down his cheeks and red, puffy eyes. All he’d had to say was that a landslide had flattened his village over the mountains, and they understood. 

Hinata’s mother was a stay-at-home mum. She would have been home at the time of the quake and landslide. But despite all that, Hinata had fought off the demons and put his sister first. As long as Natsu was bright and happy and giggling, Hinata could smile, no matter how broken it was.

Now, however, with the news of being able to play again, Hinata’s sparkling grin was honest and true, his joy and excitement overflowing. He almost ran straight into Asahi, who gently smiled in return and held his palm out flatly to prevent Hinata falling over. The boy practically vibrated on the spot.

“Asahi-san, Asahi-san!!! We’re gonna play again! Coach said we could play again!”

“Aha, that’s great, Hinata~. Have you told everyone else?”

“Mhm~! I was just tryna find you last! Come on, come on, let’s go~!” 

“Yeah, let’s go, Big-Bear-Nii!” Natsu leant forward and latched onto his upper arm, melting his heart with her sweet smile and glittering eyes. He carefully lifted her from Hinata’s to hold in his arms, and the little girl quickly scrambled to sit on his shoulders with a squeal. Asahi winced as her hands knotted in his hair. Nervously, he held onto her legs to stop her kicking them against his collarbone in glee.

“C-Careful, Natsu. You don’t want to fall!”

“Shou-Nii will catch me if I do!” Asahi wanted to tell her that Hinata was probably the worst receiver on the team, but he couldn’t bring himself to say something so cruel, or break her little heart. Instead, he huffed softly.

“I’m sure he will, but let’s not test that.” Natsu giggled as Asahi started walking, following Hinata as he bounced back towards the gymnasium. The gym doors were open for the first time in a week. Apart from a little dustier than usual, it looked exactly how it had been left. Nothing about their second home – because that’s what it had become – suggested they had been through a devastating earthquake. 

Kageyama was just tying up the strings around one of the poles, securing the net at ideal height, whilst Tanaka and Noya raced each other across the floor with mops. Without Ennoshita to stop them, seeing as he’d gone east with his family to check on an aunt, these two were uncontrollable and unstoppable. 

Kinoshita and Yamaguchi watched them with exhausted expressions as they placed the balls into the cart, checking their inflation at the same time.

As well as Ennoshita, Tsukishima and Narita were absent. They all had family in areas closer to the epicentre, or busier cities where damage was more likely. 

Yachi hadn’t come back for a few days after having a really bad panic attack at one of the stronger aftershocks. The team had agreed that she should stay in the comfort of her own home until everything was back to being relatively normal. Kiyoko had insisted on going to keep her company when her mother went to work. Life went on, despite the destruction.

“Asahi!” 

“Eep!” He jumped at the call of his name, whirling around as Suga and Daichi crossed from the courtyard into the gym. Gently, Asahi lowered Natsu off his shoulders and she sprinted off to join her big brother, who had grabbed a broom and was following Tanaka and Noya’s poor example. She placed her little feet on the brush part, holding onto the handle as Hinata whizzed her around. Daichi went to intervene out of concern for her safety, but Suga stopped him with an arm.

“Hinata won’t let her get hurt. We can trust him~.” Daichi rubbed at the spot on his chest Suga had whacked.

“I’m just-”

“Overprotective. We know, Daichi. But the worst of it is over.” Reassured by Suga’s words, the captain huffed in amusement and turned back to where Asahi was watching their exchange with a tiny quirk of a smile.

“I want you to lead warm up, for now. Suga and I are going to welcome our guests.”

“Huh? Guests?” He tilted his head like an oversized puppy in confusion, a few strands falling loose from his fringe. Daichi had a smug look on his face as he put his hands on his hips, chest proudly puffed out. Asahi swallowed nervously. That meant, whoever they were, they were _good_. 

“Aobajosai are here.” Asahi should have been thinking about the forthcoming match. He should have been shaking in nerves at the mention of the team name, totally caught off guard by the strong opponents. Instead, all that came to Asahi’s mind was one thing.

“Are they okay? The- The footage was incredible, in a bad way... They’re not injured are they? Are they okay to play?” He continued to ramble, tripping over his own words until Suga rolled his eyes and delivered a half-hearted karate chop to the Ace’s ribs.

“Stop worrying so much! We’re going to greet them and _invite_ them to play. If they don’t want to, we’ll play amongst ourselves.”

“Mhm, Takeda never clarified that we **had** to have a match with them. Just that it was a good idea and we were free to use the gymnasium.” Anxious thoughts placated just a little, Asahi exhaled slowly in relief.

“Alright, I- I can try to lead warm up, but I don’t think I’ll be any good and those three might not list-!”

“ _Negative beard_!” Asahi’s gesture towards Hinata, Noya, and Tanaka was cut off as he hunched over, clutching at his side that Suga had just smacked. Still, he couldn’t be offended when he was given a wide, refreshing grin. He even found himself returning it. Daichi watched them with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes before stepping further into the gym to draw attention to himself.

“Today, I want you all on your best behaviour! You’ll find out the details soon, but for now, I want you to follow Asahi in warm up! Understood?” He was answered with a chorus of agreement, and satisfied with their response, turned on heel and walked back out. He knew Suga was at his side instantly.

“I can’t help but feel like we’re moving in too fast. Asahi might be right; they might not be okay to play.”

“Hm? I thought you said they looked like they were in one piece?”

“ _Physically_ , yes, but... We saw how Hinata changed when he lost his mother, Daichi. He stayed strong because of his sister, and he’s healing now because he’s come to terms with it. But Seijou... Daichi, they lost everything. I don’t think it’s possible to come back from that unchanged. It takes _time_ , a lot of it. Bringing up volleyball might make things worse instead of better.” Daichi’s left hand came up to his lips and picked at dry, peeling skin until Suga noticed and lightly slapped his hand away.

“Ow. Sorry. But now I can’t help thinking about if you’re both right. We don’t want to make things worse than they already are.” Their feet slowed until they stilled. The door to the baseball club clubroom was open, and they could see flashes of colour from people moving around inside, shuffling past each other as they willingly shoved 7 people into a space that was not created for lying down in. It was going to be cramped like sardines in there, but Seijou did so willingly. Daichi was about to turn to Suga and ask if they were doing the right thing, when the vice-captain giggled with a snort.

“S-Suga?”

“Remember that ‘sarcastic comment loading’ shirt we got Tsukishima as a birthday joke?”

“Yes?” Suga nodded his head towards the clubroom and Daichi made the same snorting sound as he fought back a laugh. Standing just in sight of the doorway, the middle blocker with curly black hair wore that very same shirt, talking to the wing spiker in very bright, very gaudy clothing. His entire posture, from the way he stood to the expression on his face just screamed that he was making a sarcastic comment that very second, directed towards the Ace, if the pillow thrown at his face meant anything.

“I never thought there’d be anyone who suited that shirt more than Tsukishima.”

“Yes, well~. He must have donated it before going to see... What was his brother’s name?”

“Aki-something. I can’t remember, it’s the first time I’ve heard _anything_ about Tsukishima having a brother.”

“Ya-hoo~! Captain-kun, Refreshing-kun~!” Their presence had not gone unnoticed. Oikawa stepped out of the clubroom to lean on the railings casually, looking cool as a cucumber as he leered down at them.

“Oikawa, welcome to Karasuno.” Suga’s pacifist smile was anything but. It carried a huge amount of sass, daring Oikawa to say anything negative about his precious school. Luckily, the other setter seemed to catch on. With a slight pouty frown, he stood up straight with just a hand remaining on the railing. 

Daichi noticed that the inside movement of the clubroom had come to a stop, tense and ready to intervene. Obviously, they expected Oikawa to do or say something stupid. That, or they were ready to leap to his defence. 

He caught a glimpse of hooded green eyes glaring out at them. At the eye-contact, he nodded politely in greeting. All threat left them and a similar nod was directed to Daichi before Iwaizumi emerged to stand not-too-far-away from Oikawa.

“What can we do for you?”

“Geh, Iwa-chan! That’s not intimidating at all!” With a mumble of _‘shut up, idiot’_ , Iwaizumi lightly elbowed Oikawa before turning his attention fully back to the Karasuno members.

“Actually, it’s a case of what we can do for you. I- I’m not sure if this is encroaching on... Private matters, but we have a court set up if you’d like to play with us?” Daichi hadn’t even finished his sentence before Oikawa was sprinting towards the stairs at the end of the platform, metaphorically covered in sparkles and tiny floating hearts. Much more reserved, Iwaizumi gave them a handsome grin, eyes closing and crinkling at the edges.

“Personally, I’d love to! Let me check with the team.” Iwaizumi only had to look over his shoulder to see Matsukawa and Hanamaki giving him matching thumbs-up gestures and smirks.

“Count us in!” He swept his gaze to the others and Kyoutani nodded with conviction. Kunimi appeared to be considering it, before he softly put a hand on Kindaichi’s upper arm and looked at Iwaizumi in dismal seriousness.

“I don’t think Kindaichi should. Not until we know he’s entirely better.”

“K-Kunimi, I feel fine!” Despite how distraught Kindaichi was by the suggestion, Iwaizumi knew it was for the best.

“He’s right. You had concussion and heatstroke not so long ago, and we barely stopped travelling. For sound of mind, I think you should rest for today. Do you understand?” Kindaichi shuffled, insecurely, before giving a tiny nod.

“I’ll stay with him. Please have fun.” They started to filter out, Matsukawa ruffling Kindaichi and Kunimi’s hair as he passed. The first years would most likely just settle into the futons set down once they had left. Oikawa was waiting with Suga and Daichi, the latter looking like he just wanted to escape the heated ‘friendly’ conversation between the two setters. Their personalities clashed terribly, worming under each other’s skin. Iwaizumi sighed as he calmly walked over and grabbed Oikawa by the back of his collar, tugging him over towards the gymnasium.

“C’mon, Kusokawa. They set a game up for us; it would be rude to make everybody wait.”

“Waaaah, Iwa-chaaan! You’re strangling me!” He dropped the setter into the dust, ignoring the snickering coming from the other Seijou third years. The Captain of Karasuno and the silver-haired Vice had stepped forwards without complaint, leading the way into their precious space. As soon as they stepped in, all eyes turned to the doorway. Struck by the familiarity of the court, Iwaizumi bowed deep at the waist.

“Thank you for the game!” There was a moment of silence, a split-second that seemed to last an eternity, before Karasuno repeated those words. Shouted them back. They were said with strength, tempered by enthusiasm. The corners of Oikawa’s lips twitched up as Daichi started to introduce them on a personal scale to each of the crows, gaining a sense of belonging. Maybe, Oikawa thought, maybe this was where they could start to heal.

“Oikawa-senpai.” Or not. Grinding his teeth, Oikawa dug his nails into the palms of his hands and turned around.

“Tobio-chan.” Kageyama stood there, as innocent as he could get, holding a volleyball in hands. He felt the fires of hatred burning in his chest. He felt the urge to nail his fist right in the centre of Kageyama’s face. But he held back. This was no time to create war. Any grudges could be played out on court. 

Suddenly, all the intensity washed from Kageyama’s face. He looked like a first year middle schooler again. Concern bled into every inch of his expression as he blurted out;

“Are Kunimi and Kindaichi okay?! I know... They said we’re not friends, and that means I shouldn’t be worried, but please tell me they’re at least alive!” It caught Oikawa completely off guard, nose scrunching up in distaste at this Kageyama _imposter_. It couldn’t be him. Kageyama was the devil. Kageyama was uncaring. Kageyama was-

“They’re both fine, Kageyama. They’re resting in the, uh, I think it was baseball? Clubroom.” _Iwa-chan, you traitor._

“Thank you!” Oikawa was truly taken aback when the volleyball Kageyama had been holding was shoved into his hands and then he ran off, back to Karasuno’s number 10. The ball felt light in his hands. It felt... Like a missing part of him had been returned. Like a huge hole within himself had suddenly had life breathed back into it. 

His eyes widened and his eyes glittered with all the words his numb lips couldn’t bring himself to say. He didn’t even notice the soft smile his best friend was wearing, watching Oikawa with observant, caring eyes. 

Had this been just like old times, Hanamaki would have teased their Ace about it. But every smile was precious, every inkling of joy deserved to be grasped onto and cherished. They had been through trauma after trauma, so why shouldn’t they be entitled to a gentle happiness every now and then? Small moments of bliss that made their hell worthwhile. That made life seem good enough to fight for, when everything else screamed at them to give up. 

As an afterthought, Hanamaki wondered if they’d ever get rid of those little voices in their heads, the little doubts that told them they’d lost everything, ordered them to just give up already. He’d spoken with Matsukawa about that voice, only to have the blocker admit that he had one too. Kunimi had softly chimed into their conversation, confessing to his own uncertainties, worried he would be led astray by the harmful things the voice whispered. Kyoutani had turned his head away from them, and under the rumble of the engine, said _‘me too.’_. Kindaichi hadn’t replied, but his body tensed and that spoke volumes. At that point, Oikawa and Iwaizumi had been asleep, leaning against each other and breathing softly. Hanamaki couldn’t erase what Matsukawa had said at that moment.

_“They’ve probably got the biggest demons. If anyone were to cave to these... ‘Voices’, it would be them. All this time, they’ve carried the weight of the world on our shoulders, but they’ve fought to protect us. It’s our turn now. Let’s protect our precious friends, even from themselves.”_

Every smile that blossomed on Iwaizumi or Oikawa’s face was a truly heart-warming reward. A reassurance that they were heading in the right direction. Hanamaki’s deep philosophy was interrupted by a sharp clap, the captain of Karasuno standing ready at the centre of the court.

“Before we get this game underway, we need to arrange into teams. I’m thinking we could do a six on six, with the odd rotation. Seijou, are you in agreement?” Drawing in a deep breath, Oikawa straightened up with an air of dignity.

“There’s 14 of us. Will we be rotating?”

“We’ll need a referee and score-keeper, if anyone would- Actually, Kinoshita could you referee? Thanks. And... Tanaka, keep the scores. Stop making that face! We’ll do a swap around for the second set.” The two went to their places, although Tanaka’s grumbling and peeved-off expression made it very clear he wasn’t happy about it. Karasuno obeyed Daichi like a Swat team obeyed their commander. It pissed Oikawa off a little, and he rose to the challenge.

“In any case, it would only be fair if we split up so there’s equal ‘new talent’ on each team.”

“Of course. As our guests, how would you like to arrange it?” Oikawa hit a blank. He hadn’t mulled over the strengths and statistics of Karasuno _mixed_ with his team. Who would draw out each other’s strengths best? Who would be completely incompatible? In a matter of seconds, Oikawa deduced **everything**.

“KyouKen, you’re with me for absolute. Let’s see...” Before he could say anything else, there was an insistent tugging at his trouser leg. He looked down in irritation, only to see the cutest little face staring back.

“Can I play, Pretty-Nii?” Adorable pigtails. Bright, happy eyes. Chubby cheeks with the lightest dusting of freckles. Oikawa instantly knew she was related to Karasuno’s number 10, but this child absolutely stole his heart. He crouched down to her height, grinning beautifully to match her sweet smile.

“What position do you play, Chibi-Chibi-chan~?” She flashed up a peace sigh, mirroring his facial expression.

“I’m Natsu, and I’m gonna be an Ace!”

“Ah? Looks like I’ve got some competition~.” Iwaizumi’s voice drew her attention and Natsu stared up at him in awe.

“You’re the Ace?”

“Yup.”

“M-Me too! I’m gonna be an Ace too! That means I have to beat you! But... I wanna play with Pretty-Nii too...” A warm chuckle drew forth from Iwaizumi’s throat and he ruffled her hair as he stepped past, towards the side of the court Tanaka – in control of the scoreboard and henceforth team names – had dubbed ‘Sets on the beach’. Oikawa looked a little lost for words, but as Natsu clung to his legs with a giggle, he found that he really couldn’t care.

“Alright then, Natsu-chan! Why don’t you pick our teammates?” Without a second of hesitation, Natsu zigzagged around the court and tugged over the ‘Big brothers’ she wanted to play with most. 

On Oikawa’s side, there was Kyoutani, Hanamaki (she liked his clothes), Suga, Yamaguchi and Natsu.

Daichi’s team was constructed of Kageyama, Hinata, Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Asahi. Nishinoya had moved to the sidelines, ready to substitute at any given time for either team. For the time being, he sat next to Tanaka when he noticed something.

“ _Spike and tykes?_ That’s so lame, Ryuu!”

“You try thinking up a team name suitable for Natsu!”

“I don’t need to! Hey, Natsu~! Whaddya want your team to be called?” The little girl took one glimpse at Hanamaki’s leggings and grinned like an angel, throwing her hands in the air for extra flourish.

“Sparkly unicorn pineapples!” Tanaka and Noya tried to choke back howls of laughter as they shakily wrote the name in place, their entire bodies vibrating with withheld cackles. 

They weren’t the only ones. On the other side of the net, Daichi was covering his face with a hand, but it was clear that he was chuckling. Iwaizumi and Matsukawa had ended up leaning against each other, the latter hunched over and snickering into his sleeve. Kageyama and Hinata stood around, uselessly confused, whilst Asahi just smiled in amusement. He thought it was cute...

Suga had very much the same view, shaking his head in mirth, hands on hips. Hanamaki had instantly erupted into embarrassing snort-laughter, unable to look at the little girl. Yamaguchi had openly laughed, followed by giggles as he crouched down and Natsu ran into his open arms with matching titters. 

Oikawa just watched, filled with an unexplainable amount of joy, seeing this little girl running around happily and being so _so_ strong. 

She was probably stronger than all of them here.

Kyoutani, on the opposite end of the spectrum, was not pleased at all. He loathed to be anywhere _near_ a sappy, stupid name like that. Still, he wasn’t going to speak out about it. He did have a heart, much as he hated to admit. Making a five? Six? Year old cry was not on the agenda. If he could spend a day covered in flowers as he did before, then he could easily distract himself from the team name with a game. An intense game of volleyball was just what he needed.

“Remember guys, keep it soft so nobody gets hurt~!” Oh _**hell** no_. It wasn’t fun if he didn’t hit with everything he had! A low growl rumbled in his throat and he probably scared the tall, gangly one next to him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. (What was it with these number 12’s, they were all wimps and _terrified_ of his mere presence.) 

Oikawa instantly gave him a pointed look, one he would expect from his father, but Oikawa was not his father so he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and looked away. Somebody cleared their throat. Meeting green eyes through the net, he slowly dipped his head in acknowledgement. 

“Why do you only listen to Iwa-chan?!” From the referee stool, Kinoshita seemed to be highly amused observing the two teams mould together, despite the randomness. Deciding they should probably get the match underway, he blew on the whistle.

“Captains, can you make an agreement as to who serves first?” Daichi and Oikawa quickly glimpsed at each other and nodded.

“Sets On the Beach may serve first.” Daichi was in position to serve, and with a neatly executed overarm, the ball crossed the net. It was much softer than he could have done. 

The reason for that was that Natsu was in prime position to receive. She wasn’t a high schooler like them. She hadn’t had that many years of practice, only the few sessions her big brother had dragged her into in their back garden. Nonetheless, she kept her body low, moving forwards with her legs as if to push the ball back in the direction it had come from. Due to raising her arms up, the ball went directly up instead of towards Oikawa. 

Luckily, Natsu had nabbed them a lifesaver. Sugawara was also a setter. And he was right there, at Natsu’s side. The ball landed firmly in his hands and he pushed it towards Yamaguchi, playing as a middle blocker on the back line. There was no chance it would have the power, speed, or control it needed, but Yamaguchi was able to volley it over the net. The softness of the pass rendered it a chance ball.

“I’m open!” Daichi darted in position to perfectly receive it, Kageyama sending the ball to Hinata as predicted. 

Oikawa had notified Hanamaki and Kyoutani that Kageyama wouldn’t be comfortable setting for Iwaizumi at first, nor would he use the godlike quick because that would risk Natsu’s safety. It wasn’t hard to block at all, and Hanamaki slammed it down, shutting out the first year. It was probably a little cruel, but it felt _exhilarating_. 

He’d forgotten how much he loved this. He forgotten _volleyball_ , period, but now it was all coming back to him in a flood of emotions and memories.

He almost burst into tears. Whether they were tears of joy, or tears shed for what he missed, Hanamaki didn’t know. 

The game continued, Natsu getting tired halfway through the first set and switching out with Noya. Having a libero on the team worked _wonders_ for racking up lost points, and stitched the team into a solid unit. There was still hesitation between Karasuno and Seijou, unlike on the other side of the net, but it was quickly resolved by the end of the first set. ‘Sets On the Beach’ had won by a minor five point difference, and Oikawa was determined to double the point gap in his favour this time around.

The game continued, well into a third set, and then someone had shouted _“Best of five!”_ , so it turned into five full sets, the rallies increasing in length each time, and difficult attacks formed on the fly. It was probably only due to how quickly Oikawa learnt his teammate’s habits and what they could achieve, that led them to victory.

20 - 25.  
23 - 25.  
25 – 22.  
26 – 24.  
32 -30.

The wins were only _marginal_ , but they mattered. They mattered so much, because it proved he hadn’t lost any of his ability whilst the world fell apart. He huffed bitterly. If he’d weakened as a player, he probably would have crumbled into an empty husk of his former self, without any shred of normality. Hanamaki turned his head Oikawa’s way, raising a thin eyebrow.

“Don’t worry, Makki~. Just thinking.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about. You know Iwaizumi will hit you if it’s stupid, right?”

“Does he really look like he can move?” Hanamaki grunted. That was true. Five sets in a row, in casual clothing instead of their thin shirts and shorts, with lack of water bottles, had led to players collapsing on the floor where they had previously stood as soon as the whistle blew for the end of the five sets. Pained groans and the occasional cough interrupted what should have been silence.

Amazingly, Hinata was still able to get up and move around, kicking a ball between him and Natsu. Tanaka, having only participated in two of the five sets, would have joined in if he weren’t off fetching water bottles. They couldn’t risk dehydration. A factor that nobody had thought of beforehand, in their adrenaline fuelled haste to play the sport they loved. 

It was evident just from looking around at the sprawled forms on the floor, that they wore matching smiles, absolutely glowing in the exhaustion. A huge part of them that had been missing was now filled in. 

Oikawa groaned in disgust at the sticky sweat on his back as he peeled himself off the floor, just to sit up. Daichi copied, starting a chain reaction. Whilst the other players were still battling gravity, the Captain’s reached under the net and shook hands firmly.

“We should do this again, Captain-kun~.”

“Agreed. It was much needed. Think we should keep mixing up the teams?”

“No reason why not. I like a challenge.” They shook once more, with a touch of friendliness, before Tanaka came back in with a crate full of bottles and everyone was headed towards him like zombies towards brains. He wisely set the box down and threw them out at the players before they could reach him. Slowly, instinctively, Seijou moved towards each other until they were safe in their huddle of five. 

Iwaizumi was still glugging down his water bottle, Matsukawa sipping slowly. Hanamaki lay on his back still, appreciating the coolness of the gym floors. Oikawa had his legs crossed, chin in hands and elbows on knees, Kyoutani distancing himself as much as possible without breaking the circle.

“Well, that was fun~.”

“Yeah. I think we needed that, to be honest.” Hanamaki grinned, looking towards the Karasuno players.

“They’re not as bad as we thought. Could be friends, maybe.” Slowly, Oikawa traced a circle on the floorboards, drawing his shoulders in as if they kept him silenced. Iwaizumi instantly noticed.

“Oi. Spit it out, you know we’ll listen.” He drew in a deep breath, hesitating out of fear of backlash.

“I want us to stay here. Even if Tobio-chan is here, this is-... This is the closest we’ve gotten to belonging. There’s no way we can return home either. We’re _homeless_ , but it feels right here.” He tensed up, not daring to look at them for the prolonged second of silence.

“Sure.”

“Sounds good.”

“I’m up for that.”

“It’s fine, I guess.” His head darted up to meet the very casual agreement of his teammates. His heart swelled.

“You- you guys...” Matsukawa shrugged, giving him a faint smile.

“It’s not too bad here. They’re pretty welcoming and we’re allowed to stay together, so I don’t see why not.”

“The only question is – Will we be allowed to stay when the school reopens?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update days have been decided as Wednesday and Saturday!
> 
> Also, I have literally only just realised I forgot to post this on Tumblr.   
> If you do any fanart for this fic, or have any headcanons, any scenarios or spin-offs, please tag them with #Sendai Magnitude 10.0  
> (Super original, I know.)
> 
> If you'd like to follow me on Tumblr and scream headcanons at me (or fic requests, holy shit I love those), my blog is shit but my username is the same!


	12. Familiar faces

Three days passed, and the forth begun. Seijou had happily crammed themselves into the baseball clubroom, limbs overlapping as they slept, using each other as pillows, and huddled together as close as possible. Kunimi had a habit of curling up on top of people, avoiding the floor like it was the plague, but Kindaichi and Matsukawa were there to act as his mattresses. They didn’t really mind. 

The only condition was that Kindaichi didn’t like having hard things against his head, an uncomfortable anxiety born from having a doorframe collapse onto him, which meant he couldn’t be near the walls or without a pillow. The softest of them all, Oikawa usually waited to see where the first year would settle and then wriggle his way in, placing his stomach right where Kindaichi’s head would rest.

Iwaizumi was never far from Oikawa, but being a human furnace, he was always in the middle. If he didn’t start off that way, he ended up being crowded around during the cold nights. Hanamaki usually waited until he was deep asleep and then grabbed Iwaizumi’s ankles, dragging into the centre of the heap. Then, he would flop across Iwaizumi’s legs, resting his head on Matsukawa’s thigh. 

One of his arms, either out of extreme bravery or extreme stupidity, wrapped around Kyoutani’s waist and forcefully pulled him into their cleverly arranged unceremonious heap. The first time, Kyoutani had growled at him and shuffled as far away as possible. Then, the cold of the night had called him back. The second night, he had grumbled, but hadn’t protested. The third night, he tensed up at the physical contact then relaxed. It had been the best he’d slept for a long time.

The team were just bringing themselves out of slumber, sleepy _‘Good mornings’_ exchanged and the soft breathing of those still dozing as background noise. Oikawa yawned as he blinked awake; about to stretch when he remembered that usually woke Kindaichi in a bit of a panic. Any movement of his head did. When woken normally, however, he was sweet. With a soft, proud smile, Oikawa reached down and gently shook his shoulder. The boy mumbled at first, his brow furrowing, and then his hands came up to rub at his tired eyes. He turned his head towards Oikawa and smiled sleepily. 

“Morning Senpai~...” 

“Morning~. I need to get up, Kin-chan, is that okay?” Kindaichi nodded, sitting up just enough for Oikawa to wriggle his way out, stretching as he stood. He grabbed a nearby pillow to put where his stomach had just been, watching as Kindaichi’s eyelids fluttered shut and his breathing evened out once more. The morning air was chilly, but not unbearable, so Oikawa grabbed a cardigan from the neatly folded pile and tugged it on, wrapping his arms around himself to warm up a little more. 

He nodded at Hanamaki and Kunimi, both awake and sleepily playing Jan-Ken-Po. They returned the nod with drowsy grins before returning to their grand battle. A quiet knock on the door interrupted them, just as Oikawa disappeared into the conjoined bathroom. They blinked in confusion before Kunimi wriggled his way off the top of the pile and stepped over to the door. He had to nudge an abandoned futon out of the way to open it more than a crack.

“Good morning...?” He found himself looking at an empty doorway until something pat his leg and he looked down. He huffed in amusement and crouched down.

“What’re you doing here, little monkey?” Natsu giggled and reached forwards to pat his cheeks.

“Sensei sent me! There’s a con- a coo- A big car here!” Kunimi’s eyes widened minimally.

“A convoy?”

“Yeah! An’ your friends are on it!” Instantly, he swept Natsu up into his arms and darted over to the railing. In the middle of the courtyard, there was the same convoy vehicle they had rode in on, engine rumbling softly. He could see Ukai’s bright orange hoodie and blond hair. He appeared to be laughing, talking amiably with someone until he stepped back and looked up at the clubroom. He grinned and waved, moving back a little further, and then someone else stepped into view.

Kunimi’s lips wobbled. His eyes watered. His throat clogged with emotions, completely _overjoyed_. He took a deep breath, eyes meeting with familiar, soft brown.

“ _ **YAHABA!!!**_ ” He placed Natsu back down and sprinted towards the staircase, taking them three at a time and stumbling at the bottom before racing into open, waiting arms. Yahaba was warm and soft. His embrace enveloped Kunimi and held him close, letting the first year weep emotionally into his shoulder. Breath brushed over his ear before Yahaba whispered.

“I’m home.” Kunimi sobbed a little harder. He clung on as tight as possible, fearing that this was an illusion, a dream. That if he let go, Yahaba would disappear. 

He was aware of the rest of the team following him, having fought their ways out of the futon bundle and knotted together bodies. A few came around him and joined the hug with bright laughs and the same overemotional tears. He noticed Oikawa and Hanamaki bowl past, however, physically launching themselves at someone else. Kunimi looked up and saw them laughing, along with someone on the ground. 

Watari playfully pushed them off before pulling them both in closer, ruffling their hair to intentionally mess it up. His dazzling grin was full of the same life and cheekiness it had been before the earthquake had struck. The doubt and darkness that had once haunted his eyes was gone, replaced with a mature spark. 

Kunimi slowly pulled away from Yahaba. They made eye contact, and the setter nodded in understanding, giving him a gentle push towards the trio. Watari saw him and immediately pushed the others aside to jump forwards and squeeze him tightly.

“I promised to return to my family, didn’t I~?” Kunimi was incapable of words, so overwhelmed and _happy_ , so he nodded instead and hugged back. He knew he wasn’t the only one crying. He could hear Oikawa’s hiccups of joy, Kindaichi’s full-out bawling, and Matsukawa’s much quieter, shaky repetition of _“We missed you, we missed you, welcome home, we missed you.”_

Kyoutani had yet to hug anybody. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, because there were his fellow second-years and the ones he had first formed friendships with. But first, he walked over to the Ukai, Takeda, and the two convoy drivers. They were watching with pleased grins, and Takeda was even tearing up a bit himself. Confused eyes turned to him as he approached, shuffling in an almost shy manner. Then, he bowed deep at the waist.

“Thank you for bringing them home!” He hadn’t meant to shout so loud, but it seemed that he had as all the noise bar a few sniffles stopped, all attention on him. He could feel his ears redden and burn. Then, a strong hand clapped on his back. Ukai grinned down at him.

“Take good care of ‘em, kid.”

“Osu!” He turned back around and was met with Yahaba’s smug smirk, suddenly reminded of how much of an _asshole_ he truly was. Watari himself was hunched over with laughter.

“Didn’t peg you for the grateful type, Kyoutani~.” He blushed and grunted, prompting Watari to wipe away a tear of hilarity and stand up straight, opening his arms.

“Get over here! You’re not getting out of this.” Kyoutani hung his head low, but stepped over them anyways, and was pulled into a bone-crushing hug. He managed to wrestle his arms free and wrap one around each of them, pulling them ever-closer.

It felt right. 

He had his two closest friends – his two first friends – in his arms after being separated, and it felt so right. 

Like his arms had been made for wrapping around them.

Like their heads were the perfect sizes to fit against his collarbone.

Like everything came together as a puzzle piece. 

Kyoutani sent up a silent thanks to whomever had led his life in the right direction, to finding volleyball, and going to Aobajosai, and meeting these people. For being accepted on the team and accepted by his peers. For making friends, something he had feared would never happen.

There was bright laughter, and then the rest of the team moved in around them. Despite the morning chill and the fact most of them were in burrowed, thin pyjamas, it felt so warm.

However, Takeda did have one concern. Seven boys barely fit into the biggest room they could offer. Now there were two more. There was no other option he could think of except for having them split into two groups, taking up two clubrooms. They could always move into a classroom instead, but those were being used for massive amounts of storage. Additionally, he had kept up with the media, and discovered it would be half a year before construction began at Aobajosai. 

The third year boys would be old enough to have their own places when that happened, but they had _nothing_. No money, no possessions, no safe way of living. Even if their hometown was rebuilt, they were still as homeless as before. 

Luckily, Takeda knew of another way. An alternative option, for them to truly belong and start to make a house a home once more. He’d already spoken to the Karasuno team members and their surviving parents.

“Everyone? Could I have your attention please?” They pulled out of their hug and habitually lined up as the teacher spoke to them, ignoring the roar of the convoy next to them and the cloud of dust as it drove off. Takeda tensed, then exhaled slowly.

“It is no lie that you cannot remain living on school grounds.” Oikawa fidgeted, the movement of Hanamaki and Iwaizumi catching his eyes too. With a deceptive calm, Matsukawa became their voice.

“We know. Now that we’re together again, we can-... We’ll move on.”

“Ah, no! That’s not what I meant! My apologies, I should have made it clear! We’re moving you out of the school, yes, but not out of Karasuno.” Takeda’s flustering calmed when he picked up on the nerves and confusion arising from the children. Seeing him panic would only heighten their own anxieties, especially having this bombshell dropped on them. 

Ukai cleared his throat, resting a hand on Takeda’s shoulder.

“What sensei is trying to say, is that we’re offering you our homes. We’ve spent a long time talking to the club members and people we know, and we’ve found a good 10, maybe 11 homes that are happy to welcome you in, as family.” Stunned silence. He wasn’t sure if they were excited or destroyed by the news. They just... Stood there. Staring at him. No, staring through him. Maybe it had been a bit too sudden to drop this on them? Watari was the first to recover.

“R-Really?! You’ve found us homes? You- You did that for us...?” He softened into a softer smile, nodding at the enthusiastic libero.

“We wouldn’t be able to face you if we hadn’t. Besides, you’re a part of Karasuno now. The boys are taken with you, and you fit in pretty well. It-... It’s going to be a long time until Aobajosai is rebuilt, but-.”

“No. Aobajosai will never be rebuilt.”

“Oi- Oikawa...”

“They can rebuild the town. They can give it the same name. But it won’t be the Aobajosai we left behind. What made Aobajosai was the people. With them gone, it means nothing to us.” Takeda nodded shakily, blown away by their strength but deeply saddened. The fact they even had to say this... 

It was heartbreaking. 

They had lost more than just a town, a school, a club. They had lost friends and family, acquaintances and even strangers that had become known faces. They truly had lost Aobajosai, and they would never get it back.

“R-right, well... There’s nine of you, so that’s just enough homes being offered. However, only three of them are open to a pair, rather than single person alone. Would you prefer that, or...?” Kindaichi unconsciously stepped closer to Kunimi, the shorter clasping onto his hand. They weren’t going anywhere without each other. 

Iwaizumi looked down the line, getting nods from everyone and noticing the desperate way the first years clung together. He turned back to the teachers, interrupting Oikawa, whom was about to respond that everyone was okay with it, with an elbow to the ribs.

“As long as the houses are close together, we should be okay individually. But please keep Kunimi and Kindaichi together.”

“Understood. In that case... We’ll introduce you to Shimada later. Here’s the list for the rest of you, please decide amongst yourselves.” Takeda passed over a piece of paper to Yahaba, the others crowding around him and looking over his shoulders. 

It was a neatly drawn aerial-view map of the town, with houses circled and names of the Karasuno team members, or graduated adults on them. He noted that Kindaichi and Kunimi were placed in the main street, above a shop named ShimadaMart. Also on the map, Ukai and Takeda’s homes were listed.

“You- You two are opening your homes to us...?”

“Mhm~. We’re happy to help.” Yahaba nodded and then looked back to the map. He didn’t really recognise any of the names, or rather, couldn’t put a face to a name. However, there was one he immediately saw that Oikawa made a disgusted sound at.

“Urgh, cross Tobio-chan off the list.”

“Don’t be rude, Oikawa! If you’re going to start that middle school shit again, I’ll hit you!”

“Iwa-chan, noooo! I- I just meant that _I_ wouldn’t want to stay with him!”

“Good. Because I’ll be staying with him. Don’t look at me that way. He’s a good kid, just a little... Misunderstood. I’m sure living with him will be fine.”

“Okay, so, Iwaizumi-senpai will stay with Kageyama.” Ignoring Oikawa’s cries of _“Iwa-chan, you traitor!”_ , Yahaba burrowed a pencil from Takeda and wrote Iwaizumi’s name above Kageyama’s. After a long deliberation, they finally managed to settle it, hopefully in a way that would suit both them and Karasuno.

The home closest to Kageyama’s was Ukai’s own apartment above the shop. Oikawa had been adamant on going there, just in case he or Iwaizumi needed each other close by at any point. They’d been by each other’s sides for almost 11 years now, and not even an earthquake was going to shake them apart. Plus, he looked forward to having all the conveniences right on his doorstep.

Matsukawa had chosen to stay with the Tsukishima household, not for any particular reason other than the amazing sass battle he had engaged the blond boy in the day previous. Both of them were salty as heck, and it was a _delight_ to Matsukawa to have someone just as low-key snarky as himself. Hanamaki was great at joining him in with insulting people in a playful or affectionate manner, but he was very blunt about it and not so sly.

Just like Oikawa and Iwaizumi, Hanamaki and Matsukawa didn’t want to stray too far from each other. Henceforth, Hanamaki selected the home just a single street away. They had seen, through yesterday, that Tsukishima constantly stuck by the side of Yamaguchi and vice versa.

Adding to the fact that Hanamaki found it oh so fun to tease the poor first year, only to get massive shade thrown back at him, it was an ideal choice. Hanamaki liked the kid, and Yamaguchi could easily handle himself around the older.

Kyoutani had declared that he didn’t care where he ended up, so Yahaba had smirked in his direction and hidden the map from view as he jotted down Kyoutani’s name. Where he ended up would be a mystery, but knowing Yahaba to be an asshole towards his friends, Kyoutani scowled and tried to pretend like he really wasn’t bothered.

Yahaba had hummed, tapping his lip with the pencil as he tried to decide. Of the few homes left, he only recognised Ennoshita and Asahi as names of the Karasuno members.

“Watari? I can’t pick, you go first.”

“Oh, okay. Umm... The only problem is, I don’t really remember what either of these guys are like.” Kunimi softly cleared his throat, drawing their attention. Out of all of Seijou, he’d spent the most time getting to know each of Karasuno individually, whereas the third years tended to stick to those they had originally first gotten to know. 

“Ennoshita is hard to describe, but he’s very similar to you, Yahaba. You’d probably get along really well. And... Asahi is shy, but he’s also very kind. He’d get along with anyone, to be honest.” 

“Alright, I’ll go here then~.” Watari pointed to the spot on the map, and his eyes widened when he saw where Yahaba had placed Kyoutani. He glanced between the two, about to speak up when Yahaba gave him a smirk that said he knew what he was doing. Despite being concerned, Watari trusted him. So he shut his mouth and left the map as it was. Yahaba filled in their blank spaces, before passing it back to Takeda.

“Thank you very much for your assistance. Even though you barely know us, you’re helping us to this extent.” Takeda softly smiled, rolling the map up and tucking it under his arm.

“We couldn’t call ourselves responsible adults if we didn’t help you. Besides, we might not know each other _much_ , but you are worthy rivals turned acquaintances and possible friends.” The team tensed, then bowed in unison, shouting their thanks. Ukai scratched at the back of his head.

“We’re not gonna move you out instantly. It’s still a couple weeks until the school reopens, so we’re gonna transition you over slowly. For the very least, I’d like ya to try bonding with the people you’re gonna be living with. If you want to leave school grounds, be my guest.”

“Thanks!” With a light farewell, the adults walked off chatting, leaving Seijou standing all clung to each other in thin pyjamas in the middle of the courtyard. 

Oikawa took one look down at his state of dress – or rather, undress – and quickly spun on his heel to go back to the clubroom. Iwaizumi instinctively followed, and then the first years. Hanamaki and Matsukawa wore matching grins as they stepped behind Watari and Yahaba and pushed them all the way to the stairs at the bottom. Kyoutani huffed, partially in amusement, and jogged along behind them.  
The sun was starting to break through the early morning clouds now, and it was getting warmer. Not warm enough, however, to wear anything less than long sleeves, cardigans, and two pairs of socks.

“I’m definitely going to check out the rest of the town.”

“Hanamaki?”

“I’m going to find a bakery and _devour_ every single cream puff there. I’ve missed them so much. Even Yahaba is starting to look like a cream puff.”

“I resent that.” Hanamaki smirked lightly.

“True. You’re too sour to be sweet~.”

When Hanamaki left the school grounds, teammates by his side, he had a long-sleeve shirt on and a thick hoodie to cover the developing bruise on his arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos or comments, they give me life!


	13. Cakes and shakes.

They had, at some point, separated into groups. A couple of the members from Karasuno had tagged along, making sure nobody from Seijou ended up lost. Even though the town itself was small, there were lots of winding paths and dead-end alleyways. It was a maze of a town, easy to get lost in if someone left the main road. Henceforth, there was one Karasuno member to each group of their new residents.

Getting along well with Iwaizumi, Daichi had offered to show them around the town, Oikawa and Yahaba strolling behind them as they talked about Kaiju films. Iwaizumi, of course, had started to talk about Godzilla and barely stopped to breathe. Watching, Oikawa was amazed that Daichi took it all in stride, nodding along politely and occasionally replying to show he was paying attention. Yahaba was more impressed that Iwaizumi hadn’t passed out from lack of oxygen yet. 

“Ah, sorry to interrupt, but we’re here.” 

“Here?” Daichi gestured towards the building they stood in front of. The sign read Sakuranoshita shop. Yahaba instantly recognised it.

“Ah, Oikawa-senpai! This is where you’ll be staying!”

“It’s... Quaint.”

“You hate it, don’t you?”

“Shh, Iwa-chan! I’m being polite!” Iwaizumi gave him a blunt look that showed Oikawa’s deception wasn’t working, whilst Yahaba watched them with a deadpan gaze and Daichi curiously raised an eyebrow. He was sure he’d seen this kind of dynamic somewhere else...

“You’re such a dumbass.” Ah yes, that rang a bell. He huffed lightly in amusement, drawing the attention to himself.

“I was wondering where Kageyama got it from. His family is so well spoken, I was sure it had to be a middle school encounter.” Iwaizumi had the decency to blush slightly, hanging his head lower in apology and rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

“Y-Yeah. He used to really look up to us, but... We kind of fucked it up. I didn’t set a good example and this idiot almost whacked him one.”

“ _Whacked_ him one?!”

“He was the devil, Captain-kun, the devil!”

“He looked up to you, dumbass!”

“Then why did he keep trying to steal my techniques?!”

“Because he wanted to be like you! Idiot! Stupid! _Kusokawa_!” 

“Iwa-chaaan, stop combining my name like that!” As Oikawa pathetically beat his fists against Iwaizumi’s side until he pulled the setter into a headlock, Yahaba stepped around them and joined Daichi in watching. Whilst Yahaba was deadpan in expression, however, Daichi seemed a mix between confused and amused. Flabbergasted, rather. He glanced at Yahaba as if seeking help.

“Are- Are they okay?”

“No. No, they’re not right in the head. But this is normal for them, so it’s best to just leave it.”

“Right... Should we wait for them?”

“If you don’t mind waiting. I’d rather not have them getting lost.” With a soft smile, Daichi excused himself for a moment and entered the shop. When he returned, Oikawa and Iwaizumi seemed to be placated, and he held a small white bag.

“I hope you like steam buns.” That perked their interests. He opened the bag and offered it out, Oikawa bounding forwards with a bright _‘Itaidakimasu!’_ , and Yahaba thanking him politely before taking one and nibbling it. Iwaizumi lingered behind, but Daichi could sense hesitation mixed in with excitement.

“There’s one pork curry and one tofu with mushroom bun left.”

“You should pick first, you brought them.”

“Ah, thank you.” He chose the pork curry bun, unsure if he was imagining the flicker of relief on Iwaizumi’s face as he took the offered back with the last remaining steamed bun. 

“Iwa-chan, don’t you usually grab the meatiest one regardless of who brought it?” A short, sharp glare was sent to Oikawa before Iwaizumi stared at the bun in hand and the tips of his ears started to steadily flush.

“We haven’t had meat for a long time... So, I didn’t want to risk it.”

“Oh. Your stomach.” Iwaizumi nodded at Yahaba. Apart from the first years, Seijou was highly aware of how unbelievably _sensitive_ Iwaizumi’s stomach was. Especially to abrupt changes. Suddenly switching from vegetables and noodles to curry-based meat would have had dire consequences. His stomach would have rejected the food, and his body would have reacted negatively to anything afterwards for a couple of days. 

(Once, in their second year, Hanamaki and Matsukawa had poured Tabasco sauce all over his bento when he wasn’t looking. Never again.)

“It’s not safe to risk it.” A little bored, Oikawa looked back up at Daichi with a polite grin.

“So, where to next, Captain-kun?”

Much like how Daichi had shown the three to somewhere they could buy something, Yamaguchi and Asahi had paired up with Kindaichi and Hanamaki. They’d already visited the homes they would be moving into and the families they would join, and now Yamaguchi was leading them to what he said was _“where Tsukki and I come every day!”_.

Hanamaki almost cried. A Patisserie. Even _better_ than a bakery. One of the windows had a large piece of tape over a crack, and there was caution tape around one of the splintering posts, but it was the most beautiful thing he had seen in what seemed like forever. His eyes watered as he clapped a hand on Yamaguchi’s shoulder.

“I am... **SO** glad we are going to be brothers.” 

“You’re... Welcome?” Hanamaki didn’t wait for the others, instead entering the patisserie with a polite bow and walking over to the display cabinet with a skip in his step. Yamaguchi sighed, reaching for his wallet before his other shoulder was softly held. He looked up at Asahi, whom smiled gently.

“I’ll cover this, Yamaguchi. You should save your money for something else.”

“Th- Thank you!” With an exhale of laughter, Asahi followed after their guest, who looked like he was already ordering. Yamaguchi hung back, taking a moment to look over at the final member of their little tour group, pressed up against the window with a face of pure awe. 

Kindaichi was mesmerised by all the cute little cuboids of cakes, decorated with perfect cream swirls and fresh fruit. What really took the cake, pun intended, were the _character cakes._ He was tempted by the cat caramel éclair, the digimon tarts, Monokuma mousse, and Infinite Stratus macaroons, but in the end it was the small GJ club pudding that really grabbed his attention.

“Ooh, that’s a good choice.” Kindaichi jumped at the proximity, the freckled boy having moved close enough that their shoulders brushed. The little jump had Yamaguchi skitter away with a nervous laugh.

“S-Sorry! I’m used to being that close around Tsukki when we look through the window, so it- it just kinda happened. Sorry...” Kindaichi wanted to be bitter. He wanted to lash out verbally. He wanted to hate this person, because they were from _Karasuno_ , who had prevented his senpai going to the finals of the spring tournament. He wanted to hate someone who he had seen willingly hanging out with Kageyama. 

_But he just couldn’t._

There was nothing about Yamaguchi that could bring Kindaichi to hate him. The only annoying thing was that he saw a little bit of himself in the Pinch Server, what he could have been like if he’d found Kunimi earlier and not had to deal with the middle school bullshit. It made him a little self-conscious. He pushed those feelings aside with a light exhale.

“It’s okay. I was so absorbed in looking at these, I didn’t see you approach.”

“They’re really captivating, aren’t they~?”

“Y-Yeah. I like the, um, the chocolate truffle square.” 

“That’s really nice, but the caramel pudi is probably the best normal cake. Personally, I like the little Yurikuma Arashi bear!”

“Ooh, which one’s that!?” With childlike delight, Yamaguchi pointed to the confection labelled ‘Delicious Smell Cake’.

“It’s chocolate and banana! Plus, the anime isn’t _too_ bad.”

“Eh? You- You watch anime too?” Their eyes met, and matching grins grew on their faces. A friendship had formed between them, with just a few simple words. At the same time, they were comfortable around each other.

“Yamaguchi?” The moment was broken when Asahi came back out the door, apologetically rubbing the back of his head.

“Sorry for interrupting, but I’m about to pay. Would you two like to order?”

“Y-Yes please! Sorry Senpai, we’re coming!” Asahi held the door open for them as they passed through the doorway with polite thank-you’s and bows. In the end, encouraged by the fact that Yamaguchi had ordered a character cake without being judged, Kindaichi stammered out his own choice, for the GJ pudding. The staff seemed friendly, and Yamaguchi chatted with them like they were good friends. He probably was, if he’d been coming here every day.

“Kindaichi, over here!” With the cute cake in hands, he startled and then came over to the table Hanamaki had claimed, sizeable enough for all four of them, with two on individual chairs, the other two on a sofa-type seat. Hanamaki had pretty much made himself at home, sitting comfortably on the sofa side with a plate of 5 or 6 cream puffs in front of him.

“Umm...”

“What?”

“Is- Is it really a good idea to have that much cream...?”

“Yes. It’s always a good idea.”

“If you say so, senpai.” By the time Asahi and Yamaguchi rejoined them, the pile was down to only two cream puffs remaining, with which Hanamaki was dramatically acting out the iconic scene from Titanic. Needless to say, Kindaichi slunk down in his seat like the ground could swallow him whole. He wished it could, just a little. Even if they were the only customers in the patisserie, it was still embarrassing.

“ _‘Promise me now, Rose, and never let go of that promise.’_ ‘I promise.’ _‘Never let go.’_ ”

“Senpai, please... Please stop.”

“I’ll never let go, Jack!” Yamaguchi watched with one eyebrow raised in confusion. Asahi clutched a tray with four glasses of lemonade, shaking in his hands slightly as his bottom lip wobbled and tears welled up. Apparently, the Ace of Karasuno was very familiar with Titanic, and not as thuggish as he looked. Yamaguchi cleared his throat.

“Haven’t you ever been told not to play with your food?” Hanamaki deadpan stared at him.

“Why must you kill my joy? I take back what I said earlier. You’re gonna be a sucky brother.”

“Firstly, you’re upsetting Asahi. Secondly, you chose it, you deal with it.” Kindaichi had _never_ seen Hanamaki lost for words before. It was a first that he was bound to remember for a long while.

“U-Umm...” Asahi was looking down at the tray in his hands. It was still shaking, even though he himself wasn’t anymore. The lemonade in the glasses rippled. Hanamaki’s eyes widened. He’d seen the same effect in a water bottle he’d had in the classroom, seconds before the magnitude 10 had struck.

“Get under the table, quickly!” Considering their heights, it was a tight squeeze, but all four boys managed to fit under the table just as the ground shook and rumbled, loose tiles falling from the ceiling. One of them crashed into the chair Kindaichi had just been sitting on, and he let out a terrified shriek. Instantly, he was pulled into warm arms, ear pressed against Hanamaki’s chest and hearing his heart beat fast and fearful as parts of the patisserie came down around them. The third year murmured comforting words into his hair, but Kindaichi wasn’t really registering the words. He could hear things crashing down around him. He could hear the rumble and growl of the vibrating earth. He could _feel something landing on his head-_

Except he couldn’t. It was all just a memory, just a hallucination brought on by the strong aftershock, yet even knowing this; he continued to tremble in Hanamaki’s arms.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s over now, Kindaichi. You’re okay.” Hanamaki frowned in concern, circling his hand on Kindaichi’s back in a hopefully comforting manner. The younger was still quivering, curled up like a ball against his body and hiding his face in Hanamaki’s hoodie.

“Kin-?” A choked sob. Biting his bottom lip, Hanamaki gently eased his arms around the first year, pulling him up into a proper hug, softly shushing him and rocking side to side a little. He glanced across at the Karasuno duo, where Asahi had moved during the quake, after things started falling, to shield Yamaguchi from above. He lifted his arm to allow Yamaguchi to wriggle free with a thank you, before he went over to check the staff were unharmed. Asahi smiled softly, something akin to pride, before he met Hanamaki’s eyes and took in the upsetting position he and Kindaichi were stuck in.

“Is- Is he okay? Are you okay?”

“No... To be honest, I don’t think either of us are, but- but he has it so much worse.” 

“Worse?”

“Yeah, he – umm – he isn’t adjusting like the rest of us. Nightmares. Flashbacks. Phobias. Those kind of things.”

“Ah. I understand.” Bitterly, a little voice in the back of Hanamaki’s mind snapped _“No! No you don’t! You weren’t there!”_ , but he held it back because he knew Asahi was only trying to be nice and supportive. Working together, they managed to persuade Kindaichi out from under the table and onto the sofa-seat, which was slightly dusty from the ceiling plaster crumbling a little. Still, it was nowhere near enough damage to consider evacuating.

“Feelin’ better?”

“Y-Yes. Sorry, Senpai...”

“It’s okay. That was scary as fuck, I don’t blame you for freaking out.” A phone buzzed. Asahi pulled out his mobile with a soft sound of acknowledgment before his brow furrowed and his lips pointed downwards in a tense frown.

“We need to go. Everyone is meeting back at the school, Coach’s orders.”

“It must have been really serious.” Asahi nodded at Yamaguchi, whom had taken a broom to help the staff members sweep up the small pile of debris. 

“It doesn’t say what, but it has that air about it. Kindaichi, Hanamaki, are you okay to start walking, or should we wait a few minutes?” Hanamaki almost said no. He was about to shake his head negatively, when Kindaichi stood up bravely. He wiped the saltwater tracks from his face with the backs of his palms and gave Hanamaki a determined nod. The third year fought back a grin, settling for a smile instead.

“We’re good.”A small nod, a quick thank you, and their cakes packaged to go, the quartet set off back towards the school.

It didn’t take long for them to meet with Matsukawa, Kunimi, Suga, and Tsukishima, the former two instantly rushing over to their best friends sides. It was clear to see the panic in Kunimi’s eyes as he placed a hand on each of Kindaichi’s arms, looking at him very seriously for confirmation that he was okay. Matsukawa needed less reassurance. A simple pat on the shoulder let him know that Hanamaki was perfectly fine, albeit caught off guard. They were still deeply concerned. Because as well as Kindaichi, there was another member of Seijou who was _traumatized_ by earthquakes.

“Have you managed to reach Iwaizumi?”

“No, I’ve been trying to get hold of Oikawa, but he’s not answering his phone either.” Hanamaki swore under his breath, digging his nails into the palms of his hand.

“Who did they go with?”

“Uh, with Yahaba, but I think the Captain accompanied them.” Like a lifesaver, Sugawara held up a hand to silence them as he spoke over the phone, presumably with Daichi.

“Yup. Yes, I know. We’re on our way now. Is he okay? Alright, we’ll see you there.” He put his phone back in his pocket before fixing the former-Seijou with a refreshing grin and a thumbs up. Matsukawa nodded respectfully at him. They had, despite all their differences, become rather close over the past few days, and Matsukawa could see Suga as a pillar of strength whilst everyone else ran around like headless chickens.

“Thanks, Suga. That helps a lot.”

“You’re welcome~. Let’s just hurry back to the school.”

“Right-o.” Tsukishima, with Yamaguchi by his side, had already started back towards the school. He was in a sour mood. All he’d wanted to do was to go home and rest, but _noooo_ , Coach Ukai just had to ask him to join the group with Matsukawa in. Something about ‘getting to know your new brother’. Like he cared. He didn’t have a good history with the whole sibling thing, so Tsukishima hadn’t wanted anything to do with him, except the occasional exchange of insults.

“Tsukki?”

“What?” He regretted snapping back when he saw Yamaguchi flinch, but then his freckled friend smiled sympathetically. 

“You can put your headphones up, if you’d like. I’ll make sure the others don’t try to disturb you.” _God **bless**_ his amazing friend. With a thankful sigh, he pulled his headphones up and pressed play on his phone, after checking it was still plugged in. The rest of the world faded out, and all he was aware of was Yamaguchi walking at his side, and the music coming through his headphones. It seemed like, this way, they reached Karasuno high school much quicker. Sliding his headphones back down, Tsukishima lingered a good few meters away from where Coach Ukai was. It was easy to go unnoticed, considering they weren’t the first group back.

Watari looked positively exhausted, and Kyoutani pissed off to the extreme. That was understandable, considering they’d been dragged around at a maddening pace by Hinata, Noya, and Tanaka. If he were a nicer person, Tsukishima would have felt sorry for them. Sympathy, even. Instead, he snickered into his sleeve.

Apart from Tsukishima, the rest were clumped together. There was no divide between Karasuno and Seijou as there had formally been. Truly, they were integrated into the team. There was, however, a much tighter group around Iwaizumi and Kindaichi. The more caring team members, those with a tender, nurturing nature were packed around the two in an attempt to protect them from the dangers of their own minds. Iwaizumi’s knuckles were white as he clung to Oikawa’s cardigan, the setter protectively wrapping an arm around his waist and letting Iwaizumi just _cling_ to him. It was unusual to see, but as Yahaba softly rubbed Kindaichi’s back, he was well aware that the two of them were vulnerable to the circumstances they had been thrown into. 

“Can everyone hear me?” Ukai spoke clearly, raising his voice just the slightest so that he could be heard by those at the back. When a resounded ‘Osu!’ came back to him, he nodded and held up a piece of paper with a grave expression.

“This is the list of all the victims they’ve recovered from Aobajosai. I’ve read it through, and there are a few names missing that I know you’ve been searching for. Un- Unfortunately... There’s also names of people you are looking for. I’m sorry.” Shoulders raised, Yahaba stepped forwards and took the list. 

“Do- Do you want me to skim it through before I read it aloud...?” There was a heavy pause, before Hanamaki nodded.

“Only if you’re okay with it. And let’s... Let’s go back to the clubroom, if that’s okay?” He looked to Ukai for confirmation, the Coach nodding and extended a hand in a sweeping gesture back towards the clubroom they had made a home in for the duration on their stay at Karasuno.

Slowly, with numb feet and weary souls, Seijou dragged themselves back to their bundle of futons. They sat as close as they possibly could, bodies overlapping and tension leading them to reach for the closest person, squeeze their hand or knee or shoulder. After watching the second year’s expression twist and fall with every name he read, they knew it wasn’t going to be good. Finally, he seemed to be done reading the list, and looked up at the rest of the team, whom leaned forwards with fearful anticipation, and a mild flickering of hope, praying that the names were either on the list, so they knew what had happened for sure, or not on the list – Fuelling the hope that loved ones had escaped.

Yahaba took a deep breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CLIFFHANGER.  
> Mwahahaha.
> 
> Come scream at/with me on tumblr! ( https://www.tumblr.com/blog/russiansunflower3 )


	14. Broken parts can be fitted back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for panic attacks/disassociation/mental breakdown.

_** “The world can fall to pieces, for all I care!”  ** _

_**“The world can fall to pieces, for all I care!”** _

_“The world can fall to pieces, for all I care!”_

The world had fallen to pieces. And Oikawa did care. He cared enough that his heart was tearing in two; his throat was painful as he wailed, and his lungs mourned the loss of air. 

_His mother’s lips on his forehead. Her hand ruffling his hair. A soft, sad smile tugging at her lips as she drew back._

_“It’s okay, Tooru~. We’ll talk it out when you get home.” He scoffed, stubbing his tow against the ground with his nose wrinkled and top lip upturned._

_“I don’t WANT to talk about it!_ The world can fall to pieces, for all I care!” _His mother had sighed and rolled her eyes, waving goodbye even though Oikawa had turned his back to her and started storming off in a foul mood._

He wouldn’t have said them if he’d known they’d be his last words to her. He would have hugged her and never let go. He would have told her he loved her. He would have insisted she went shopping in the next town over.

Because her name was on the list of deceased.

Oikawa was an ugly crier, that much was true, but he didn’t wail and sob and choke without reason. His chest ached. His stomach felt like it was squeezing tightly. Every muscle in his body burnt with regret and his bones hollow and chilled. His heart felt empty. He wasn’t the only one in such a state of distress. 

All three of Hanamaki’s sisters, both of Matsukawa’s parents, Iwaizumi’s mother, Yahaba’s five younger siblings and his dad, Kindaichi’s parents and grandparents, Kunimi’s father, Watari’s entire family and Kyoutani’s little sister. They were all on the list. All of them were in tears, whether they wailed loudly like Oikawa or silently cried. With the current record, they lost hope for anyone not on the list. Aobajosai, their hometown with all its people, had been decimated. 

But they knew. With the names on the list, they knew. Fragile optimism did not need to be stretched thin. If anything, they abandoned the remaining hope for other people they had known. Family, friends, even people they rarely acknowledged. The chances of ever seeing them again had shattered, and the boys reluctantly knew this. 

Squashed together in a tangle of limbs and pile of warm heartbeats, they were fully aware that all they had was each other. It was best not to hold onto any false pretences, cutting ties with the past, with any sense of normality, in a bid to save themselves. But it was harder to do than it was to say.

“I- I want my mummy back! I wanna say sorry! I want to tell her I- I love her!” A hand squeezed around Oikawa’s upper arm, tugging him into someone’s chest. He didn’t know who. His eyes were scrunched tightly shut, and the team were weaved together in one twisted knot of mourning. Their grievances could have painted the room black, if sorrow were visible. 

All they could do was take comfort from each other’s presence, pressed up against the beating of a broken heart, or wrapped in the arms of a broken boy. It was too warm. But they didn’t care. Temperature seemed like such an insignificant thing. _Everything_ seemed insignificant. 

Everything was hollow, and empty, and broken. The world – for all they had known – had finally shattered into slithers of glass that could never be pieced together. The ground beneath their feet metaphorically broke away, leaving them suspended in the vacuum of space. All they had was each other, and the saltwater that poured from their eyes.

Engulfed in their mourning, exhausted from the spilling of sorrow and tormented by grief, they slipped one by one into a dreamless slumber. Iwaizumi was the last awake. He remained sitting, back against the wall and Oikawa slumped across his lap, until he couldn’t stand it anymore.

Quiet. Too quiet. Bad thoughts. Creeping anxiety. Harmful thoughts. Too quiet. Absence of life. 

Slowly, numbly, he extracted himself from the heap and stumbled out the door, clicking it shut as softly as possible behind him. His legs quivered and shook and threatened to give way as if they were made of spaghetti or jelly. 

They shook with every step he took, half-dragging his feet along the surface until he reached the stairs. Half of him didn’t realise he was standing there.   
The other half wanted to throw himself down them. 

He didn’t. As if his body were on autopilot and brain anaesthetized, he made his way down them and lugged himself across the courtyard, into the gymnasium. 

“I- Iwaizumi-senpai!” Ah. Two familiar shapes. Colours and blurs that formed faces he could recognise. Names attached to them somewhere in his sluggish, burdened mind. Strange, he realised, that a person was just made of colours and shapes and noises. That’s all they were. So why did it hurt so much to see those colours and shapes and sounds disappear? To know they were never going to return? 

“Iwaizumi...?” A hand shook his shoulder. He didn’t even realise his head had drooped to look at the floor until he lifted it to meet blue – such a bright colour – eyes. Blue and black and peach and orange swirled into a bipedal shape, taller than him by a fraction and slender. A smooth, deep voice, almost calming in the noise it produced. Colours. Shapes. Sounds. That was all a person was. 

He could attach a name to this one from the churning confusion of his mind. Kageyama. The colours and shapes and sounds – the person – in front of him was Kageyama. He felt nothing. The bright orange standing further off, with blue and yellow – a volleyball, his mind helpfully provided – in shapes that formed hands. He still felt nothing. He thought of different colours. Different shapes. Much different sounds.

Black, green, cream. Black hair, like cobwebs from the shadows, beautifully weaved together in a braid that swept over a feminine shoulder. Green eyes that carried a weariness but sparkled with gentleness and love. Cream skin, lighter than his own by several shades, with rosy dusted cheeks and peach lips. A melodious voice; sounds that conjured up the thought of a flute. What name was this one?

Ah. 

Yes.

That was it. 

“M-Mother...” It hurt so much. It was _agony_. It was like his heart had been ripped straight out. Like he’d been beaten and left for dead. At the same time, it felt... Like nothing. Like he was lost in complete darkness, maybe at the bottom of the ocean, floating weightlessly and being crushed under the pressure as he fell deeper deeper deeper-

“Iwaizumi!” Blue. Vivid, bright blue. A colour. A person. Kageyama. Kageyama’s eyes were filled with concern, brow furrowed and the slightest of frown lines creasing his forehead. They were not like his mothers, Iwaizumi thought. His mother’s eyes were green. A colour. They were gentle. They sparkled. They comforted him and put him at ease. 

Ah.

But he would never see those eyes again.

Never that colour. 

It seemed so... 

Painful. 

_Why?_ Why? Just colours and shapes and sounds and colours and shapes and sounds and colours and-

“ **Iwaizumi!** ” He jolted. When had he started falling? When had he slumped into waiting arms? When had he started numbly repeating the word ‘mother’ over and over again? He didn’t remember. All he knew was that he was know being guided somewhere, feet moving automatically as he was tugged along, until hands landed on his shoulders and pushed him into sitting on the bench. Kageyama’s hands were shaking.

“K-Kageyama?” The boy breathed out a heavy exhale of relief, wiping a cold sweat off his forehead.

“Thank goodness... Hinata’s gone for help. You- You were behaving really strangely for a moment.”

“Oh.” What else could he say? He didn’t remember. 

How did he get here, in the gymnasium? He didn’t remember. 

He couldn’t recall leaving the rest of his team. Just warmth and then warm on the outside, cold within, and then completely cold all over. 

Was that when he had left the clubroom? Probably. 

He pressed his palms into his eyes, until he could see static in speckles of green, red, and blue, flickering in the blackness of his vision. Everything seemed so messed up.

“Kageyama.”

“Yes?”

“My mother is dead.”

“I- I’m sorry.” Kageyama awkwardly shuffled. He had no idea what to do. Nothing had ever prepared him for helping someone through such a harsh loss, cutting deep enough it caused a mental breakdown. A little part of Kageyama’s heart ached, seeing the strongest person he knew reduced to a slumped heap on a bench in the gym, swaying from side to side in self-defence against his own mind. He inwardly cringed at how long Hinata was taking to find help. 

“She was on the list. Her name- It was on the list. I don’t know what got her, Kageyama. I don’t know if it was the earthquake or the wave. I don’t know what killed her.”

“Would you want to know?”

“Yes. I need to know. 2011. The tsunami got my dad. Is it the sea, Kageyama? Did the sea take my mother too? Is the ocean out to take away everyone I love? Or maybe it was the quake this time. I saw someone crushed, y’know. It wasn’t pretty. It was quick though. They didn’t even know. Maybe mother went like that. I’d like that. She deserved to go quickly, painlessly.”

“I- I’m sure you could find out...” Once more, Kageyama shuffled awkwardly, nervously. He thought he had known Iwaizumi, someone from middle school who had been a great inspiration to him. This... This broken person in front of him surely wasn’t the same human being...?

“BakageyamaaaAAAA!” Salvation! He turned to see Hinata bounding in through the doors, with Takeda lagging behind and stopping to breathe in the doorway. He straightened up, pushing his glasses back to the bridge of his nose and quick-walked over with an air of seriousness. He crouched down, placing a hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

“Iwaizumi-san, are you okay?” There was a moment of hesitation where Kageyama didn’t think Iwaizumi was going to answer, or had even heard the question. But just before Takeda could repeat it, the third year shook his head slowly, his entire torso shaking from side to side with him. 

“Would you like me to take you back to your friends?” Another shake.

“You’d like to stay here?” A slower shake. Iwaizumi pulled his hands away from his eyes and dropped them into his lap, leaning back until his head hit the wall. He probably would fall down the gap between the bench and wall and hurt himself, but he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care. Takeda waited until the teenager seemed to regain focus, making eye contact, before speaking again.

“Where would you like to go?” Iwaizumi flicked his tongue out to wet his lips, as if that would stop his voice being low, and croaky, and shaky. 

“I- I don’t know.” The teacher gave him a sympathetic smile, trying to comfort him in a respectable manner.

“I have some chores to do, Iwaizumi-san. I could use some help, if you’d like?” Chores. He used to do those all the time. He was used to washing up dishes, cooking, using the washing machine, folding clothes, and general housework. He was used to helping his mother out so there was time for them to relax in the evenings. Quality mother-son time that had kept him sane after the loss of his father. 

Iwaizumi was standing before he knew it, and nodded at Takeda. The teacher smiled back encouragingly before leading the way, walking slow enough that Iwaizumi could keep up, despite his jelly legs and stone feet and numb, numb, everything so numb.

“Do you have any allergies or sensitive skin?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Okay. I’ll let you do the dishes then, if you’re up to that?”

“Yes. Thank you, Sensei.” Takeda led him to the staff room, where there was a small sink in the corner. Usually, it was for washing up coffee mugs that the staff helped themselves to throughout the day. In the aftermath of the crisis, there were huge piles of plates, and bowls, and mugs on the desks that would have otherwise been occupied. 

Despite Seijou being the only permanent residents at the school, many folks dropped in for a meal. Whether they were coming by for the company and reassurance of other people, or if the devices needed for cooking were broken, they were always welcome.

Henceforth, after each meal, there was a good 30 or 40 dishes to be washed. Iwaizumi ran the water hot, added Fairy Liquid to the wash bowl, and filled it up. For a moment, he blanked out. Water.

Water.

Water.

Drip. Drop.

Gushing water everywhere.

A sea – an ocean – surrounding him.

Water.

Swirling depths and strong currents.

Debris and bodies washed past.

His father stolen from him and drowning drowning _drowning_ \- He gasped and tore his gaze away from the slowly filling wash bowl, bubbles frothing up on top. 

“I – I’m sorry! I can’t do this.” Takeda had been folding clothes in the opposite corner. He nodded understandingly as the teenager bowed deep at the waist, shaking as he fought back sobs through his apologies. 

“It’s alright, Iwaizumi-san. Here, why don’t we switch?” Without further words, they swapped duties. As he folded the clothes, the soft material at his fingertips so achingly familiar, Iwaizumi felt himself relaxing. His heartbeat, which had been random and all over the place, was returning to a strong, steady beat. The burning of his lungs was no longer a welcome feeling, but unpleasant, even as it eased up. His chest didn’t feel crushed, or hollow. Gradually, he was progressing away from the edge of panic and irrational thoughts.

“It’s okay to be scared.”

“H-Hm?” The teacher didn’t turn around, placing a cleaned dish aside. But even from this angle, Iwaizumi could tell he had a soft, sad smile.

“It’s okay to be scared. Us adults, we’re terrified. This was a very scary thing to happen, not just because the megaquake was the worst we’ve ever had, or because there would definitely be a tsunami. It was scary because we knew there were others worse off. That this was a long term thing. It was scary because we knew there would be children relying on us.”

“Children like Natsu?”

“Yes. And like you.”

“I- I don’t think I really clarify as a child, sensei.”

“In such circumstances, Iwaizumi-san, you still do. Ah, sorry if that seems offensive! I just mean that, you don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. Please let us, the adults, help you out.” There was such promise in Takeda’s voice, Iwaizumi couldn’t help but be reassured. He found himself returning the smile sent his way, and nodding.

“I understand. Thank you.”

“Sometimes, talking about it helps. Would you like to?” He opened his mouth. Then closed it. He folded another shirt, nibbling on the inside of his bottom lip. He thought long and hard, outweighing the pros and cons, and whether he could risk it with his current record of mental instability.

“I-... I’m not sure I’m ready. Sorry.”

“It’s quite alright, Iwaizumi-san~. My offer will remain open for as long as you need.”

“Thank you. I think... I needed to hear that.” The smile this time came much easier, more genuine than before. There was still a deep, grieving sadness inside of him, but Iwaizumi was able to cope with it. It was no longer rendering him helpless or crushed. 

Part of him had already known his mother would be dead, long before the list had arrived. Long before they’d reached Karasuno. Long before they were even rescued. Perhaps, deep down inside, he had known her to be dead from the moment the tsunami struck. 

It didn’t lessen the pain, the metaphorical wound ripped clean open, but he could quietly accept that, yes, his mother - his last relative - was gone and she was never coming back.

“-Zumi! Iwaizumi! Where are you?!” The fast paced thudding of footsteps came from down the hallway, the voice growing louder as it approached. Iwaizumi managed to share a confused look with Takeda before Watari slid into the doorway. He was distraught with panic, panting and sweating, slumped over as he regained breath. As soon as he saw Iwaizumi, a huge sigh escaped him in a ‘whoosh’. 

“Thank goodness! Do you know how worried we were?! You just disappeared, after we’d heard _that_ news! Don’t you **EVER** do that again!” He marched over as he spoke, until he had his arms tightly wrapped around his upperclassman. There had been such fear, when he woke and Iwaizumi wasn’t there. He’d shaken Matsukawa and Hanamaki awake, accidentally waking Kyoutani in the process. The four of them had exchanged worried looks, fraught with concern, before splitting up and searching for their missing companion.

“I’m sorry, Watari. It was too quiet, I had to get out.”

“That- I mean- Oh, alright. But just so you know, Hanamaki and Matsukawa won’t accept that as an excuse.” Iwaizumi couldn’t help but huff in half-amusement, half-bitterness.

“What, they think I offed myself or something?” Watari stared at him seriously. Iwaizumi’s joking grin faded into realisation.

“... Oh... I- Uh, no. I would never. I promise.”

“It’s not me you have to tell that to.”

“Right. Yes. I’ll- I’ll let them know. Where are they?”

“Hanamaki’s searching the back gate area, Matsukawa went to the roof.”

“Great. Can you go and get Matsukawa? And what about Kyoutani, does he need telling?”

“Probably? He was freaking out too, to be honest. He should be on the second floor of the building.”

“Can you-...?”

“Yep! I’ll get them! Meet us at the gym!” Watari left quickly. Iwaizumi sighed again, running his hands over his face in exasperation at worrying his friends. Again. He looked over to Takeda, mouth open to ask if it was okay to leave, but the teacher had overheard everything and didn’t even need to hear the question.

“Go ahead~. Thank you for helping me this little bit, Iwaizumi-san.”

“No, thank _you_.” He bowed politely, before following Watari’s lead and jogging out the room. The former libero had gone to collect Kyoutani and Matsukawa, leaving Iwaizumi to find Hanamaki. Somewhere near the back gate, he’d said? 

Hands in pockets, he slowed down as he approached the back gate. He couldn’t see Hanamaki, but then there was a shift from the top of a tree and leaves fell to the ground followed by Hanamaki jumping out of the foliage, landing safely on two feet, and promptly launching himself at Iwaizumi.

“YOU BASTARD!” His words did not meet his actions, tackling Iwaizumi to the ground and refusing to let go, embracing him tightly as if letting go meant Iwaizumi would disappear forever.

“Don’t you dare scare us like that again... Don’t you _dare_...”

“I’m sorry.”

“We- We didn’t know where you’d gone...”

“I’m sorry.”

“We thought you’d _**killed**_ yourself!”

“I would never. I promise.”

“... You’d better not.”

“I won’t.” With a sniffle, Hanamaki pulled back. His cheeks were reddened with emotion, his eyes shimmering with crystalline tears. Undoubtedly, he was a pretty crier, but Iwaizumi was only struck with guilt. His brow furrowed and he pat Hanamaki’s shoulder forcefully.

“You have my word, Makki.”

“Oh my god, you used my nickname, this is so rare.” Sunshine yellow sleeves wiped at his eyes, Hanamaki chuckling at the twisted expression of surprise on Iwaizumi’s face before he shook it off, rolled his eyes, and shrugged.

“Yeah, well. After all we’ve been through, I think I’m entitled to use your nickname.”

“... Iwa-chan.”

“No.”

“Iwa-chan~.”

“Stop.”

“Iwa-chan~!”

“You sound just like him, oh my god, stop!”

“But Iiiiiwa-chaaaan~!”

“Why must you do this to me.”


	15. Family.

Grief had taken its toll. For the two weeks after, the members of Seijou had barely emerged from the cramped clubroom. They’d drifted between the cusp of sleep and lying awake, feeling drained. Some, worse than others.

In the end, Hanamaki, Matsukawa and Kyoutani dedicated themselves to going and getting food, water, and _trying_ to get the others to at least sleep a little. Iwaizumi drifted between states. Sometimes his head was clear enough to help the other three out, and when he did, he was a pillar of strength. Other times, he crumbled and lapsed back into depressive episodes. On really bad days, he would barely move from underneath a pile of futons.

On those days, it was Oikawa who picked himself up, pushing aside his sorrow and anguish to support his best friend. He’d lie down and press himself as close as possible, spooning Iwaizumi from behind and softly whispering words of the past into his ear. 

Oikawa would talk about their childhoods, everything from their first meeting, to when he first got interested in volleyball, to first playing together, to their last match. All the good, all the mediocre, everything that had been _normal_ for them. He made even the mundane and boring sound like an adventure, a happy memory they could never return to, but would always cherish.

Despite how low he got, Iwaizumi always managed to bring himself back, if only for an hour or two before sinking again. His longest record had been four days without a low, but then he’d seen a mother and child come to Karasuno for a cooked meal, and he’d plummeted, reminded that he did not have his beloved mother anymore.

Yahaba wasn’t able to fight his way out the suffocating darkness like that. He struggled through it, consumed by mourning for his five younger siblings, all primary school age or younger. They didn’t deserve it. They didn’t deserve to die in a tragedy like that, so young and innocent. Nobody deserved a death like that.

Watari and Yahaba spent most of the time sitting in the corner, heads resting on shoulders alternatively and talking quietly about their deceased siblings. It helped. It healed. The holes in their hearts would never be fully pulled together, but talking about it threaded the split sides together. It would scar, it would be ugly, but it would heal. 

It was after the two weeks that Yahaba proposed a preposterous idea. 

“We should... Y’know, spend more time around the others. I think, maybe, seeing little Natsu... Might make us feel better.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I- I mean... You lost the twins... I lost the troublesome five... But I know that if they’d made it, they would have been just like Natsu. They wouldn’t see... The broken parts of the world like we do. They’d see a playground, they’d see people to cheer up, and they’d see smiles to be given... I- I think I need to see Natsu being strong so that I can fully come to terms with... With their deaths.”

“It sounds weird, but... I understand.”

“Great. Then, I’m just gonna shower and get changed. These clothes are...”

“Gross?”

“Super gross.” 

“Two-week gross.”

“That and then some.” The two friends quietly giggled together, before Yahaba wriggled to his feet and carefully stepped over tangled limbs on the floor to make his way to the showers. Luckily, Matsukawa had made sure there was a pile of fresh clothes and fresh towels folded on the side for anyone that needed them throughout the grieving period. 

Under the strong flow of warm water, Yahaba sighed deeply, as if he could just expel the heaviness in his chest out through his lips. He knew it hadn’t been healthy to shut himself away. To allow the others to shut themselves away, too. But everything seemed to have accumulated at once, crushing him under sorrow and pressure. It had just, he reasoned with himself, taken to while to dig himself out of the metaphorical mud. A quick scrub down and rough dollop of cheap shampoo later, Yahaba towelled off and dressed quickly.

He ran his hands through Kunimi’s hair as he passed, hopefully soothing whatever nightmare was going on behind his scrunched up nose and fluttering eyelids. The touch seemed to have done the trick, relaxing the first year almost immediately as Yahaba stepped back over to Watari.

“Shower’s free.”

“I gathered.”

“I’m going to wait outside.”

“Okay.” Watari threw a hand in the air as he departed towards the showers. With a gentle huff, Yahaba exited the clubroom and leaned on the railing outside, taking in a deep breath and slowly exhaling in a cloud of condensation. 

His eyes drooped, not with tiredness, but with content. He relaxed against the railing, feeling his limbs loosen up from their ache and become lighter, instead of feeling like heavy lead weighing him down. It helped, to be outside. 

Morning was calm. 

Morning was bright. 

Morning was a new day, a fresh start, a desire to live that flooded into his previously chilled bones with a sunrise’s warmth, filling the crevices of his loss and bearing golden light upon former shadowed thoughts. 

“Don’t fall.” The deep voice, cloaked with soft humour, had Yahaba open eyes he didn’t realise he had closed. Hands shoved in pockets, Kyoutani looked up from his place on the ground. Yahaba smirked.

“You have a very Shakespearean way of being romantic~.” 

“Sh- Shut up.”

“I’m joking, I’m joking.”

“You’re an ass.” With a light snicker, Yahaba stood up straight and slowly made his way down the stairs. Long days lying in a cramped clubroom hadn’t done his muscles any good, he realised with a half-wince every time his feet pressed against the flat metal surface. Kyoutani raised an eyebrow, but didn’t move to intercept or help. He knew Yahaba was strong enough to do it himself.

“What are you doing here anyways?”

“There’s been some... News.” Yahaba tilted his head to the side, eyes widening a little.

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“No. It’s bad news.”

“Okay? You gonna tell me?” For a good couple of seconds, Kyoutani closed his eyes. He forced air out through his nose with a tempered huff. Then, he opened his eyes once more. They were scarily focused. Intimidating. Filled with _anger_.

“They’re re-opening the school next week. We have two days to move out.”

“WHAT!?” The high-pitched shriek of disbelief sent birds flying from trees and stunned any movement except the wind into stillness, silence. Yahaba cleared his throat, feeling the tips of his ears burn red as he processed just how loud and high-pitched he had been.

“I- I mean. What are the details?”

“That’s it. That’s all I know.”

“That’s all you know?”

“That’s what I just said!” The setter ran a hand stressfully though his hair, chewing the inside of his cheek as he thought things over. Once calmed, he turned back to Kyoutani, who like a rock, hadn’t moved in the slightest.

“Two days?”

“Yeah.”

“To move- To go and live with people who are essentially complete strangers?”

“Tch. Yeah.”

“There’s no _way_ that’s possible! The- The first years are still distraught. Kindaichi cried so hard he was sick just yesterday!”

“Yeah. I know. I _was_ the one who cleaned up after him.” Yahaba snickered softly at the flicker of disgust on Kyoutani’s face. He cleared his throat to cover it up.

“Thanks for that, by the way. Still, I- I can’t see either Kindaichi or Iwaizumi, or even Oikawa being ready to move out.”

“We don’t have a choice.”

“... I know.”

“You gonna tell them or am I?”

“As nice as it is to see you attempting to communicate, I think this is best left to me.”

“Self-absorbed asshole.” Yahaba snorted with a laugh, scrunching his nose up as he tried to hold it in. The deadpan look on Kyoutani’s face only made it more hilarious.

“I’m sorry, you’re calling _me_ an asshole~?”

“You know you are, you fake pansy.”

“Yeah, yeah~. But you are too.”

“Oi! Quit your flirting, you’re scaring the kids!” With matching blushes, Yahaba and Kyoutani looked up to see Watari leaning against the balcony like Yahaba had been doing only moments ago, the clubroom door open and Kunimi sitting in the doorway. He waved lazily, pyjama sleeve too long for his arm.

“Were you listening in to everything?!”

“Oh, just the point from ‘self-absorbed asshole’~.” Watari grinned, casually leaning a little harder against the railing as he slung his arms over it to hang freely. He’d removed the bandages after his shower, letting his arms air out, and Yahaba winced at the clear burn marks. The skin was still red and sore, with white flaky bits where dead skin peeled off. It was definitely healing though, probably assisted by the special burn cream Ukai had brought from the store, gifting it to them the day after their arrival.

“Hn.” Kyoutani’s simple grunt, coupled with tearing his head away to look at the ground with a deep blush, prompted a laugh from Watari and an amused huff from Kunimi. Yahaba sighed heavily, putting hands on hips.

“Can you come down here so we can talk instead of shout?”

“Okie-doke~!” Watari placed both hands on the railing before crouching down and leaping up, using the muscles in his arms to pull himself up and secure his feet on the railing.

“ _Take the motherfucKING STAIRS!!!_ ” Laughing as he landed, rolling to disperse the weight of his own body, Watari was greeted with his best friend alternating between checking him over and swatting/punching/poking him as he screeched. The former-libero only rolled his eyes, letting Yahaba do all his worrying until the setter coughed and stopped shrieking.

“Okay. I’m done. I’m calm. Now... What the **fuck** were you _THINKING_?!”

“I was thinking that stairs are boring~.”

“You could have killed yourself!”

“Shigeru, I promise you, I’m fine.” Yahaba stared at him - _glared_ at him – until he raised his hands in surrender, a giving up motion.

“Okay, fine. At least one of us is concerned about your physical health. Although I’m now expanding that to include your mental health. Are you insane? Jumping from a second floor balcony? Over the top of railings!? We survived a megaquake, a tsunami, an almost weeklong journey. I would like to think we’d all try and make it to old age, now.”

“Shigeru! I’m okay. It’s my arms that are injured, not my legs.” Yahaba sighed once more, feeling weary. When he looked back up to the balcony, Kunimi had disappeared from sight.

“... How are the others doing?”

“Getting there. Kindaichi was in the shower when I came out, and Kunimi was waiting. After last night, I think they’re through the worst of it. Oikawa was awake, but barely, so I didn’t get a coherent answer.”

“What ‘bout Iwaizumi-senpai?” Kyoutani tried to make it sound gruff. Like he didn’t care. But concern leaked into his voice and the other two knew anyways, Yahaba smugly smirking and Watari giving a small smile.

“Still asleep. He hasn’t been fidgeting lately, so maybe the nightmare stage is over?”

“Let’s hope.” Suddenly – from absolutely nowhere – blaring loud alarms, like a siren. The trio instinctively dropped to their knees, hands over head to protect from falling objects until they heard a familiar cackle.

“Hanamaki!” The third year was approaching with a wide grin, an airhorn in his arms.

“Guess what I found in the ‘confiscated’ locker~?”

“Senpai no. Put it back. It was confiscated for a reason.”

“Hell no. This is a rare find! Besides, I was talking to Coach an’ apparently the families we’re gonna live with are coming to pick us up today. I’m gonna man the entrance and use this to give you all an early warning.” There was no point arguing, so Yahaba just sighed (again), and headed over to the gym. 

The Karasuno members had taken to having practice normally, although the gym was open at all daylight hours for anyone who wanted to play. 

It had originally been open all the time, but Kageyama and Hinata had once been caught playing volleyball far into the dead of night. Coach had chewed them out for abusing their bodies, and Takeda had chimed in that they were disrupting their own sleep schedules. Since then, the gymnasium had been locked from sunset to sunrise. 

Luckily for Yahaba, it was 8 in the morning, and he could already hear the familiar calls and shouts, the squeaking of trainers on the floor, the thwack of a volleyball against a palm or the cheers from a scored point.

He liked to sit just outside the door.

Listening, but not watching.

Closing his eyes and pretending he was just taking a break.

Pretending they were back at Aobajosai. 

It hurt.

Those fond memories...

They _stung_.

Mainly it was because he knew they were just out of reach. But first and foremost, it was because he couldn’t create more. He couldn’t build upon those common moments, because there was no Aobajosai. The third years were still going to be leaving. They were going to have new teammates, third, second and first years. It slightly relieved him, because he knew that upon joining Karasuno, he would not be in line for the Captain position as Oikawa had put him down for.

But it always ate him up inside. Karasuno were great, and he’d started to become friends with some of them on his better days, but they weren’t... They weren’t Seijou. They weren’t family. Below the surface, they were just strangers.

“Are you alright down there?” Drawing in a deep breath, Yahaba slowly shook his head. There was an awkward shuffle before the person – he recognised it to be Ennoshita from his voice – sat down next to him.

“Need someone to talk to?” He knew he probably should. This person was going to be his brother, after all. But Yahaba swallowed down the words on his tongue. How on earth was he supposed to voice everything? He shook his head. A soft hand on his shoulder surprised him a little, but he didn’t flinch or pull away.

“My mum will be here to pick you up later. Ah, around 11, I think she said? All the parents are coming between ten and midday, so if you want to tell your teammates...” Ennoshita trailed off when the setter sobbed, quietly, like he was holding back. He bit his lip, moving his hand to rub in a (hopefully) comforting circle as Yahaba’s shoulders shook and his skin trembled.

“I’m sorry...” There was nothing else Ennoshita could say. He knew it best that their guests – new members – went through the emotional turmoil as much as they needed, and to only intervene if necessary. Hell, Ukai had even chewed them out about going near the baseball clubroom. Seijou needed space, he had insisted, and healing often happens in silence.

“It- It’s not your fault.” Yahaba sat back up, using his sleeves to wipe away the few tears that had escaped his willpower. He turned to his new brother with a smile that couldn’t possibly belong to someone so sad.

“But thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Umm... You can come in, if you like? The offer for all of you to play still stands.”

“I think I’ll decline for today. We- We weren’t told we were going to be relocated until a few minutes ago.”

“Ouch. I understood with us lot, because a few of them would get overexcited, but... I would have thought they’d tell you first.”

“Apparently not. Wait, when did you find out?”

“Yesterday morning. That’s why none of us were on site, we went to go and cleanup, ready to welcome you guys home.” Yahaba found himself unconsciously relaxing. There was something about the meaningless chatter between him and Ennoshita that just... Made him feel at home.

A pang of guilt struck him, thinking of his siblings left behind, but he desperately clung to the feeling of belonging. He wanted a home. He wanted a family. He wanted everything he had lost.

At some point, their conversation had turned to teammates. Ennoshita had told him all about his senpai, to which he responded saying that Daichi seemed a lot like Iwaizumi, and Suga was quite similar to a mix between Hanamaki and Matsukawa. Oikawa was unique, he made very clear, which Ennoshita had laughed at and agreed. He stated he’d never met anyone like Oikawa, but he’d never met anyone like Asahi either.

Yahaba listened carefully, hanging onto every word with a little glowing spark in his eyes.

_This_ was family.

His easy-flowing conversation with Ennoshita reminded him of sleepovers with Watari, gossiping with Kunimi, getting dragged into sly pranks with Matsukawa, and talking animals with Hanamaki. It was the warmth of company, the happiness from family, the kindness of a brother. Somewhere along the way, Yahaba forgot all his worries about being moved into someone’s home. 

“What about the other second years on your team? Are they as reckless and noisy as Tanaka and Nishinoya?”

“Hmm... Watari can be reckless. Just this morning, he jumped off the balcony!”

“No! He did!?” Yahaba nodded with a laugh, prompting Ennoshita to join in too.

“I’ll admit, my lot haven’t tried that yet~. Although I did have to stop Nishinoya using a bed sheet as a parachute and jumping out a window during a study session...”

“Wow, sounds like he _really_ hates studying. Kyoutani’s like that a bit. Ooh, speaking of! Guess whose home he’s been assigned to~?” The sly spark, the dangerous smirk, the devious slant of Yahaba’s eyebrows... They all told Ennoshita that he should fear the answer.

“Who...?”

“Your baldie wing spiker, seeing as they seemed to get along _so well_ at the Spring Tournament~.”

“... You... Are a vicious enabler of destruction. Yahaba-san, one of them is probably going to **kill** the other!”

“I would put a bet on the winner, but I’m rather broke.” With a pained groan, Ennoshita buried his face in his hands.

“I- I don’t even want to think about the outcome. Saeko will have her hands full...”

“Saeko?”

“Tanaka’s older sister. She keeps him in line – mostly – but I’m not sure she could deal with _another_.”

“Oh. Whoops. Wait, surely the parents help?” The worried frown on Ennoshita’s lips deepened.

“They live in different parts of the country. Far down south.” Yahaba held his breath. He knew what it was like to lose parents. He knew what that felt like now. But to have them _there_ and completely out of reach? It seemed so...

“Unfair...”

“Hm?”

“That’s unfair. And somewhat cruel.” Ennoshita raised an eyebrow with a slight smirk.

“The same as putting our two hard-headed spikers together?”

“... Okay, fair point.” From in the distance, although not too far, there was the distinct sound of the airhorn Hanamaki had ‘burrowed’ from the confiscated items cupboard. Yahaba was struck with the realisation that someone was here. Someone had come to take away one of his precious teammates. His family – with whom he had _just_ been reunited with – were going to be broken apart again.

He knew they’d still be in the same area. He knew they wouldn’t be apart for long. But that didn’t stop it hurting as he pushed himself to his feet and started numbly towards the courtyard. Ennoshita hung back. He was aware that this didn’t involve him. 

“Yahaba? You heard it too?” He looked up to see Matsukawa quickly pace to his side, carrying a few folded clothes. They appeared to be all hoodies, jumpers, or sweaters. Something to keep them warm whilst they waited to be torn apart?

“I’m pretty sure everyone heard it.” The third year chuckled under his breath and adjusted the clothing in his grasp.

“Guess ‘Hiro was serious about being our early warning system.”

“It’s hard to know when he actually is being serious.” No more words were said on the topic, as they witnessed Hanamaki standing and talking with someone who didn’t look that much older from them. Matsukawa thought he recognised him from somewhere... 

“Shimada-san!” Yamaguchi came out the gymnasium behind them and jogged past, over to the man standing in front of his delivery van. Yahaba instantly recognised ‘Shimada’ as being part of the Supermart name where Kunimi and Kindaichi would be staying. He watched as Shimada greeted Yamaguchi like one would a younger brother.

A bright grin.

Ruffling his hair.

Making him laugh.

It was all stuff Yahaba did with his siblings all the time – before they had been declared dead. He was slightly jealous. But another part of him, from the goodness of his heart, sighed in relief that the first years would be going somewhere warm, welcoming, and safe. Karasuno tested, Yahaba approved.

“Hey guys, come over here! Makoto’s pretty chill!”

“Hanamaki, are you sure it’s not _you_ who’s chill? I thought we talked about using first names.”

“It’s fine, I said he could~.” Shimada had a friendly smile, warm and welcoming. He gave off the entire aura of someone who was genuinely kind, somewhat dorky, and extremely approachable. Matsukawa hadn’t realised his shoulders were tight with tension until they dropped, an inaudible sigh of relief escaping him. He shuffled the hoodies into one arm, holding out the other until it was shaken in polite greeting.

“Nice to meet you. You’re here for our first years, right?” 

“Yes, but not quite yet. I’m here to help Tadashi with his float serve all morning, so you’ve got plenty of time to spend together.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Hey, ‘Hiro, go tell Kunimi and Kindaichi that.”

“No can do, I’m on watch duty.” With a scheming grin, having thought up that brilliant excuse to avoid any responsibility, Hanamaki jogged back towards the front gate. As soon as he was out of sight, the forced grin immediately deflated into a helpless frown. 

One person was here already. 

Like a punch in the gut, Hanamaki realised that more would follow. 

This was really happening. 

It wasn’t some nightmare from grief, or an illusion he created to punish himself for whatever reason. This was reality. They were going to be separated again. 

Temporarily, because he knew they’d meet again on a day to day basis, but it hurt to know that they weren’t going to be constantly able to crawl back to each other, huddled in the same room in a safe pile, whenever they wanted or needed. 

They would be living separately, kept apart by houses and homes. 

They would spend the long, empty nights in a warm, cosy bed, but they’d be sacrificing the comfort of a friend next to them, protection from nightmares and depreciating thoughts, and the genuine feeling of being loved by their family.

Hanamaki somewhat feared the lonely nights.

He feared the arrival of more people.

He feared losing his team.

His family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys. _Guys._  
>  There's only three chapters left.
> 
> Come shout at me on tumblr (https://www.tumblr.com/blog/russiansunflower3) what to write next!


	16. Instinct.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternative chapter title; Get Rekt, Kageyama.

As soon as Oikawa had stepped anywhere _near_ the gymnasium, he had felt a pull. Like a magnetic attraction, he had followed his feet to the doorway and stood to watch for a while. His hands kept twitching. His skin burned with the eagerness to join in. Passion flowed through his veins and stained his cheeks rosy pink as his eyes twinkled and his entire being _hungered_ to play volleyball. At the same time, he didn’t want to intrude, but-

“Oi, oi! Your serves are intense! Let me try receiving them again!” – He didn’t have to worry about that. Oikawa plastered on a smug face, looking down his nose at the Karasuno libero.

“Oh? And what do I get out of gracing you my skill?” Nishinoya raised an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side in genuine confusion as his hands came to his hips.

“Well you get ta practice, doncha?” 

“I-... Yes, there’s that.”

“Good! Then hurry up and warm up! I want you to send me your hardest, fastest, most-difficult-to-receive serves!”

“Urgh, fine.” Despite turning his nose up at Nishinoya, with his back to the libero as he calmly walked over to the corner to warm up, he broke into a dazzling grin, unable to hold back the happiness that tugged at his cheeks until he feared they could split.

“Oikawa-san!” And it dropped. Within milliseconds, his face morphed from euphorically happy to pissed off beyond belief. 

“What do _you_ want, Tobio-chan?”

“Umm, I...” The younger setter trailed off, Oikawa casting a glare over his shoulder.

“Spit it out. I don’t have time to waste on you.” Kageyama bit the inside of his cheek nervously as he rolled the volleyball in his hands, a nervous habit. The same childish apprehension that had once filled him in middle school was returning tenfold. He shook his head in an attempt to shake away the hesitation. Then, bowed deep at the waist, holding the volleyball out like an offering.

“Please teach me how to serve like you!” Leaning away from his ‘precious little junior’, Oikawa sneered with disgust.

“Why should I do that? Didn’t you learn _anything_ in middle school? Like, Oh, I don’t know...Maybe the fact that I **hate** you. I despise you.” Kageyama retreated a few steps, quite wisely more than an arm’s length away. It seemed he had learnt something from middle school after all.

“B-Because we’re going to be on the same team now.”

“No, Tobio-chan. No we are not. I will be graduating soon. I will be on a university team, training for the intercollegiate volleyball tournament. Then, I will conquer nationals. You will be nothing more than a stepping stone I once encountered.”

“But until you graduate-!”

“I’ll play with your team. But _never_ with you. You’re an abhorrent genius, someone I will NEVER consider a teammate!” Oikawa slowly dropped his stretched stance, warmed up bar a few laps of the court. He cast one last withering glare at Kageyama before jogging off. He could feel the blue eyes on his back, but without looking, he wouldn’t see the confliction of upset, fury, and abandonment. 

Kageyama bit his bottom lip, hard. He rolled the volleyball in his hands around faster -  
faster -  
faster _faster **faster faster**_ -

“Kageyama? Y’okay man?” The ball dropped to the ground and rolled away and he shook his head, trying to stifle a hiccup, a shout, a cry at the same time and drawing his arms in to his chest.

He wasn’t sure why it had hurt so much.

Rejection from someone he had formerly looked up to; idolized.

He’d even expected it.

So why...? Why did it feel like he was being kicked to the curb and abandoned? Why did he feel like a helpless little puppy in a cardboard box with a ‘free: please take’ sign scrawled on the front in marker pen?

“Kageyama...? Come and sit down. Deep breaths, in and out... There we go...” With a small sniffle, Kageyama reached up and rubbed at his eyes. Tanaka had managed to ease him over to the side and onto a bench, which helped a significant amount. The second year was concerned, that much was clear, his expression strained and stressed. Kageyama’s mind helpfully supplied that it was probably because this was the first time he’d cried in front of someone, and that someone was Tanaka – super caring, protective, and soft. (Not that he showed it externally.)

“Hey, what was that about? One minute, yer setting on that side of the court, the next, yer over here freakin’ crying! What happened?”

“N-nothing! I was just talking to Oikawa-san and-”

“That piece of _shit_.”

“Tanaka-senpai, please! He- He’s been through a lot, and he’s probably stressed and I overreacted.”

“I don’t give a damn if he’s stressed! Nothing – not even ‘what he went through’ – is an excuse to be a jerk!” Before Kageyama could say or do anything to stop the hot headed spiker, Tanaka was already storming over to where Oikawa was selecting a ball from the trolley, ignoring Hinata and Nishinoya chatting non-stop next to him.

“OI! You!” Oikawa looked over his shoulder with an unbothered expression, but internally, he was swearing up a tempest. He was used to being shouted at so gruffly by Iwaizumi, but the difference was that Iwaizumi held no real threat. He had control over his anger, surprisingly. All of Iwaizumi’s ‘violence’ towards him was calculated and executed to leave nothing more than a small bruise or gentle sting. Things that didn’t hurt too badly, or faded quickly. 

The spiker storming up to him now had murder in his eyes. He held the _promise_ of hurting Oikawa. Briefly, his gaze flickered up and he noticed Kageyama standing on the opposite side of the gym, with the captain and vice-captain standing around him in concern. And _oh shit_ he was crying. 

Tobio-chan was crying.

Because of him.

A little flicker of guilt erupted in his chest and he physically faltered, casual expression drooping into remorse for a split second before he crafted up a blank look. If Kageyama was going to be so sensitive, it was his own fault he was crying. _Right?_

“What do you want?”

“I wanna know what the fuck you said or did to my kouhai to make him _cry_!” Now, all the attention was on them. Oikawa was vaguely aware that most of them were glaring, a couple regarding him with a questioning and partially puzzled look.

“Why- Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Tanaka snorted as he rolled his eyes fiercely enough that his entire torso twisted, hands on hips as he leant forwards, right into Oikawa’s face. He may have been shorter, but he was _intimidating_.

“I would, but as you can see, he’s kinda preoccupied. Y’know, crying. Which you made him do. So tell me - _**shitty bastard**_ \- what the fuck did you do to him?”

“I only refused to teach the brat my serve! Jeez, he’s already stolen it from me just by watching! I’m not going to teach him to be _better_ than me!” The slap echoed in the eerily quiet gymnasium. 

Everyone had just watched Oikawa get slapped.

It wasn’t playful.

It wasn’t controlled.

It was _painful_ and deliberate.

He could already feel the sting of his cheek, prickling with heat from the contact but fizzling with icy coolness as his head whipped to the side fast enough to cause whiplash. By some fortune, it didn’t. But the pace didn’t stop there. It wasn’t like in movies when everyone froze. There wasn’t a comedic silence before anyone spoke or did anything. The _instance_ Oikawa had been slapped, there was a mighty roar and then the blunt force of a huge weight slammed into Tanaka from behind, tackling him to the floor with great fury.

At the exact moment Oikawa had been slapped, Iwaizumi had been entering the gym. He had reacted immediately, instinctively. And as soon as the brawl broke out, everything else exploded. 

Ukai came over with Daichi to intercept, each of them trying to drag the Ace away by an arm each, even as he kicked and struggled and snarled. Nishinoya and Suga darted over to pull Tanaka away, making sure he could still stand was breathing okay, albeit a little ragged. Yamaguchi had grabbed the first aid box from Yachi, whom was hiding behind Asahi, and joined Tanaka’s side. Hinata inserted himself right into the middle of the fray, sticking his arms out to protect his senpai and almost getting kicked in the jaw as Iwaizumi tried to fight himself free. 

The anger from someone hurting his best friend was still coursing through his veins, but it was overrun by the fear that had gripped him when he’d been restrained, pulled back.

Trapped people can’t escape.

Dragged by the currant. 

Trapped and can’t escape and _going to die-_

_Water pulling everywhere, head going under, trapped, can’t get out, going to **drown**_ -

“Tsukishima! Get over here and help hold him down!” Irritated, Tsukishima started coming over to help his Coach and Captain, until he realised something. Iwaizumi’s struggling had turned from violence to pure unadulterated fear. He wasn’t fighting to attack Tanaka. He was fighting to escape.

“You’d save yourselves a lot of trouble if you just let him go.”

“Are you crazy?! You want more people to get hit?” Golden eyes rolled, and Tsukishima approached slowly. It was like he was walking up to a frightened wild animal. Well, technically, it wasn’t that far from the truth. Oikawa was near-hyperventilating on the side, watching everything go to shit, his best friend in definite trouble and _terrified_ , and realizing it was **his own entire fault.**

He took a shallow breath to fill his burning lungs and was about to step forwards to try and calm Iwaizumi, when Tsukishima reached out and pinched the Aces pressure point. Instantly, he went from panic attack to unconscious. Whilst it may have looked and seem cruel, Oikawa knew that the middle blocker had probably just made the best possible decision. Coach Ukai didn’t seem to agree.

“Wha-?! Tsukishima, what did you _do_?!”

“Relax. I only knocked him out. Humanely, of course.”

“You- You knocked him out.”

“Yes.”

“... _ **Why?**_ ”

“Because he was clearly distressed. Beyond the point of calming down.” Furrowing his brows, Ukai reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Sometimes, these kids didn’t make any sense to him. Other times, they made too much sense and he regretted getting into situations they solved with ease. This was one of the latter.

“Okay, just... Get back to practice, all of you! Oikawa, help me move Iwaizumi, then we’re going to have a little _chat_.” He growled the word through gritted teeth, pleased when Oikawa flinched. Good. It meant the boy know he’d done wrong. Still, despite being ashen and quiet, Oikawa followed the command. 

Iwaizumi wasn’t light by any means, but he was light _er_ than other people the Setter had picked up and carried. With Ukai helping to lift him by the legs, they were able to move the unconscious boy to the corner, propping him up against the walls. Ukai exhaled deeply and slowly.

“Now, Oikawa...”

“I know. I’m sorry. This is all my fault, but- but I didn’t mean to! I just don’t want to teach Kageyama **my** serve.”

“Look, I get that. But don’t you think you’re being childish and selfish? You’re graduating soon. You could at least tolerate the kid; even if you’re not gonna teach him. Besides, what harm will it do to actually teach him?” Oikawa’s shoulders shrunk into himself, his knees were drawn to his chest and he just seemed... Small.

“He’ll replace me.”

“What?”

“Kageyama will... He’ll replace me. I won’t be the best setter anymore. That _genius_ will overtake me, just as he has before.” His fingers tugged at the knee support, drawing Ukai’s eyes to it. His expression softened.

“You hit the bottom and crawled back up to the top, huh? I guess that must be scary, feeling vulnerable and then having natural talent blast it all away.”

“Y-Yeah... How’d you know?”

“Kiddo, I was never on the starting line-up. My senpai had trained an extra year. They were better than me. And then some snot-nosed brat comes in _just_ as I’m about t’ make it... And he’s a natural. Better at setting, better at receiving, better all-rounder. I left the bench once – when he was late.”

“What position did you play?”

“Setter.” Ukai’s proud grin only grew as Oikawa slowly turned to look at him in awe.

“You were a setter too?”

“Yup! Best position, in my opinion. You’re the conductor. You play the game, you play the opponents, and you play the crowd. Everything relies on you. It’s a position of pride, proof that you have a speciality.”

“I- I always thought that too!” 

“But there’s a difference between bein’ a true setter and bein’ a manipulative, selfish brat. The setter holds the team together. They inspire. They teach. They don’t let a grudge get in the way of what’s truly important.” Ukai glanced over towards where Kageyama was ‘helping’ Hinata with receives, and Oikawa’s gaze followed. He shrunk further into himself, tightening up into a ball before giving a worn-down sigh.

“I understand.” He moved to stand, gaining a little bit of a spark in his eyes, a cheeky glint that made Ukai’s blood run cold.

“But I’m definitely going to make sure you know I don’t like it! After all, we live together now, Ukai-san~.” Oikawa frolicked away, slowing to a jog at the same time Ukai looked away, pinching the bridge of his nose again.

“Holy crap, what have I let myself in for...?”

“A boatload of trouble...” His head darted up to see Iwaizumi just sitting up, a little disorientated from his abrupt fall into unconsciousness. The Ace looked around with a dazed expression, before he very quickly _slapped his cheeks hard enough to **turn red**_.

“Easy, kid!” Iwaizumi blinked, a little more coherent. 

“I deserved that. I’m very sorry for starting a fight.”

“S’not me you need to apologise to. But, I do want an explanation.” Iwaizumi rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

“Reflex? I just... Saw Oikawa in trouble.”

“You mean... You literally attacked a guy just because your friend got slapped?”

“Yes.” Ukai shivered. The cold, unforgiving look he was being given sent chills down his spine and directly into his very nerves. There was something terrifying about the dedication the Ace had towards his companions. Something dangerous.

“I understand that you guys are protective of each other, really I do. But you _cannot_ hurt other people in the process!”

“I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.” Ukai ran a hand through his hair. Dejectedly staring at the floor, Iwaizumi was honest above anything else, and the Coach had no idea what to do when he wasn’t being given trouble. He was used to Tanaka talking back. He was used to Noya taking it on the chin and making a joke of it. He was used to Kageyama and Hinata blatantly ignoring him. He was used to Tsukishima snapping back with a witty reply, or Suga finding a sneakier way to do something, or Daichi just plain denying any involvement. 

Henceforth, he had no clue what he was meant to do when the kid - _just a kid!_ \- admitted to doing wrong and was genuinely apologetic. Luckily, Ukai had a friend in Takeda.

“May I ask how it’s going over here?” The teacher gave a friendly smile as guilty green eyes flickered up to him and Ukai gave him an expression that begged for help.

“Ukai-kun, why don’t you go and supervise the setters? They’re a little abrasive and could use guidance.”

“I’m on it.” The young man didn’t hesitate to push himself from the floor and quickly jog over to the trio of setters. His mind registered that there should be four in total, but then he recalled Ennoshita telling him that Yahaba preferred to watch and learn for now. An analytical player, rather than learnt through muscle memory. 

“A’right, what’s going on over here?” The first thing Ukai noticed was that Kageyama was _**sparkling**_ , in every sense of the word. His skin glowed. His eyes glittered. His vibrated with excitement. It was like Oikawa’s recognition and (reluctant) acceptance to teach him had absolutely brought Kageyama to life.

On the other hand...

Ukai was considering making sure there was ten meters between Oikawa and Sugawara at all times.

There was no love lost between those two, that was for sure. Suga was standing closer to Kageyama, body angled to intervene if necessary, and murder flickered in his eyes as he glared at Oikawa. The brunet returned each one slyly, tinged with smugness like he was daring Suga to make a move.

“O-Oikawa-senpai said he would teach me how to serve!”

“And _only_ how to serve. The rest is for you to mess up alone, Tobio-chan.” Kageyama appeared oblivious to the spite and venom, nodding enthusiastically and almost headbutting the ball in his hands. Suga was less pleased, his top lip twitching upwards into a silent snarl before he forced it back to a stern frown. It was reminiscent of a honey badger he’d seen on TV once. Either that or a Tasmanian devil. That would probably be a more likely comparison, considering how protective he was being.

“Then let’s get started. Oikawa, play nice and teach properly. Suga, maybe you could come and set for spiking practice, yes?”

“I’d be happy to _help_ , Ukai-san. After all, that’s what a responsible third year does to set an example!” Oikawa’s teeth grit at the sugary grin and clear insult sent his way. With a fake beam, he reached out and slung an arm around Kageyama’s shoulders. The poor boy looked like he was going to explode with happiness, not realising he was being used as a weapon.

“Teaching my precious junior despite our past seems much more mature, doesn’t it~?”

“You couldn’t teach a fish to swim.” With a deep sigh, Ukai started to guide Sugawara away with a steady hand. He still shot sugar-coated insults over his shoulder, with Oikawa returning jibes. No love lost indeed.

Apparently, being a coach just got ten times harder. 

“Everyone get into two lines, we’re doing spiking practice!” He glanced over to the gym doors. The curly haired blocker and former libero were watching with interest. 

“Oi, that means you two too. Get in line, brats.” They shared a glance before Matsukawa nodded and came jogging over to the volleyball cart. Watari was slower, cautiously rubbing at one of his arms tenderly. Ukai gave him a small nod of confidence, reassuring him that he could join in without harm. As long as he didn’t receive or block, he’d be fine.

“Noya, get over there for receiving. I want you to get _every single one_.”

“Right!” With the libero in position, setter ready at the number 6 position, and two lines of spikers, Ukai cleared his throat.

“Suga, you’re going to set to the number five position first, and then back set to number one. Noya, return to the back line between each receive. Er, Yachi, can you stand in setter position on that side of the net? Don’t panic, you’re only going to catch them and throw them off court. You should have time whilst these guys feed in the balls. You guys are going to feed the ball in, move to the front corner of back court, and approach from there. Be wary of each other, don’t break the pattern, and go collect your balls before rejoining the back of the opposite line. Does that make sense?”

“Osu!” He stepped out the court and blew his whistle. There was a moment of hesitation between who was going first, before Suga pointed the number five position and Tanaka realised that was him, rather than Hinata who was at the front of the second line. He threw the ball up above him, volleyed it towards Suga, and then approached the front line. He waited until the ball left Suga’s hands to run up – step, step, feet together, jump, swing – and smacked the ball down towards the middle of the court, where Noya received flawlessly and directed the ball to Yachi.

“Aim closer to the line, Tanaka! That was a clean hit to receive!”

“Yes coach!” Tanaka collected the ball from where Yachi had rolled it aside, at the same time as Hinata launched himself into the air. Unfortunately, before Suga had a chance to set.

“Hinata! You’re not doing the freak quick! This is normal hitting practice!” 

“S-S-Sorry Coach!” Red in the face from embarrassment and flustered, Hinata ran to collect his ball and jogged to the back of the first line. He held the ball in his hands tightly, looking down at it with a flushed complexion and squeezing it a little in anxiousness. Could he do it? Could he really a ball that wasn’t already there before him?

“Hey.” The deep voice startled him and he nearly dropped the volleyball in hands, slowly lifting his gaze up to meet the dark brown lazy look of the middle blocker from Aobajosai. 

_‘Scary! He’s scary!’_ Hinata felt a cold shudder run to his spine and pool in his bladder, as always happened when he was nervous. 

“Try counting to five once you’ve volleyed the ball to your setter. Gives ya time to see where the ball’s gonna go.” Hinata blinked. Scary-guy-he-had-avoided-due-to-being-scary wasn’t actually so scary after all! He was nice, and giving advice!

“Th-Thank you!” Matsukawa felt the corner of his lips tug up into a smile at the kid, overly enthusiastically and a bright bundle of sunshine. He was annoying as hell on the other side of the net, but as an ally, he was like a magnet. He drew people in towards him with his bright and bubbly personality, making others laugh either with or at him with his clumsiness and general reaction, and was highly entertaining to watch interact with Kageyama.

Speaking of Kageyama... Matsukawa’s eyes drifted over to the side, where Oikawa was... Teaching? Could that word even be applied? It looked more like he was observing Kageyama serve and then picking the poor kid apart, critiquing a new thing each serve.

“Salty.”

“E-Eh?”

“Oh, nothing kiddo. Just wondering why your friend looks up to Oikawa so much. He’s good, yeah, but he’s an ass towards _everyone_. Just in a friendly way towards the team.”

“W-Well the Grand King is our team too now! So he has to be nice or he can’t play!” Matsukawa chortled, the determined expression on Hinata’s face amusing him.

“Knowing Oikawa, he’ll only realise that just before we graduate.” He missed the way Hinata’s face went sullen at the sentence, having already turned around to feed in the ball. Graduation was a sore subject, something that loomed over them threateningly that had been pushed aside and forgotten in the aftermath of the megaquake. All the third years, in a little less than five weeks, would be leaving for good. Not for the holiday. Not for a break. For universities all across the country, considering the state they were in. 

As Matsukawa rejoined the back of the second line, he leaned around the people in front to watch as Watari leapt forth from the front line, spiking the ball down right on the line. Whether it was in or out, it was hard to tell without a linesman, Watari lit up in excitement and absolutely _beamed_. He even caught Oikawa’s attention, who paused mid-sentence to send him an encouraging smile and nod in approval. It meant everything to the second year, who had thought volleyball was lost to him. He did not regret his choice. If anything, saving Towada Ame would have been okay even if he’d completely lost the use of his arms.

A life was not worth a game.

That was his belief, that was his decision. Lives were more important than a sport, even if those lives were broken and damaged and torn apart. Lives like that of Seijou, of his family. He wouldn’t trade them for the world. He would happily give up anything to keep them alive, to keep them happy.

An airhorn sounded from the front gate.

Watari would give anything to keep them together.  
But he was just one child against circumstance.

There was nothing he could do to prevent this.


	17. The blood of the covenant...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... Is thicker than the waters of the womb.

Kindaichi didn’t feel well.

He did not feel well _at all_. The delivery van bounced over another ridge in the road and he groaned, clutching at his stomach. Travel sickness had always been an issue, usually solved with a couple of travel tablets a couple of minutes before leaving. Unfortunately, there had been none in the medicinal supply at Karasuno. So here he was, sitting upfront in a van with a sick bowl on his lap just in case, and a clear view of the broken, mismatched road they had yet to travel.

“Just a little further, you’re doing great so far~.” Shimada was kind and gentle, but Kindaichi could only spare him a queasy smile before another bump had him curling in around himself, swallowing down a little bit of phlegm. Kunimi watched from the backseat in concern, well aware of Kindaichi’s aversion to vehicular travel. He hadn’t been too bad on the rescue bus, mainly thanks to complete exhaustion, but after all that time walking, he had lost the ability to partly adapt.

“There’s the shop now~. Hold on. You guys hop out whilst I park out back.” Kindaichi didn’t need telling twice. He was out the door as soon as the van slowed to a halt, stumbling over his feet and dropping thankfully to the floor with a loud sigh of relief. Kunimi snickered, sliding across the back seats and dropping out the same door.

“Doing okay down there~?”

“Yes. I will never leave the ground again. Anywhere we go, we’re walking.”

“You’ll get us lost within minutes.” Kindaichi stood up, rolling his eyes.

“We can see the school from here. As long as we head in that sort of direction, there’s no way we could get lost!” Covering his mouth with his sleeve, Kunimi laughed quietly.

“That’s what you said about Todaiji temple when we went on that school trip to Nara~.”

“The- The map said it was a different temple in the opposite direction!”

“You were holding it upside down!” Like a fish, Kindaichi’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly. He slowly started to turn red from embarrassment, starting at the tips of his ears and collarbone, slowly working their ways together until his whole face was blush with humiliation at the memory. He was still speechless when Shimada came around from the back, twirling the van key around his finger.

“Right! Just a short walk to the house~.” Kunimi raised an eyebrow, his nose scrunching up in confusion.

“Wait, we’re not living here?”

“At the shop? No, no~. That’s the staff room up there. My house is just down this pathway.” He gestured to a small footpath at the side of the shop, a little nature trail with wineberry bushes all along one side, hiding the fence of the parking spaces behind them. 

“These taste great in early autumn. My mother comes down from Kyoto and we make a lot of dessert pies for the nursery kids.”

“You mother lives in Kyoto?” 

“Mhm~. That’s where our family business started. She brought me here when I was five to start a smaller store, and went back to help Father with the main store a couple of years ago.”

“Does that mean you’re rich?” Shimada laughed, catching the glint of greed in Kunimi’s eyes with much amusement.

“Enough to take in two kids and still comfortably get by!” Kindaichi made a small sound of awe as Kunimi went silent; his mind already running over what that meant was in store for them.

Comfy beds?

Fancy food?

_Toys?_

He wasn’t embarrassed to admit that he still loved cuddly toys, especially the softest ones and large ones. Things he could hold onto and hug and surround himself with. He’d always loved it, but now, it was more of a need than a want. He could use toys to at least imitate the warmth and comfort of being in the middle of a team nest. Glancing at Kindaichi, he was sure the taller was thinking along the same lines. He reached back and squeezed Kindaichi’s wrist supportively. 

It did not go amiss, Shimada’s expression softening with understanding.

“I’ve got a room set up for each of you, but the rooms are connected by a sliding door that you can leave open, if you’d rather share.”

“Th- Thank you. I think we might need to.” Shimada nodded, pushing open a wonky wooden gate that had ‘private property’ emblazoned onto a metal sign nailed into it. What awaited them was a concrete path, pieced together in a mosaic style that had somewhat been shaken apart by the earthquake, leading in a soft curve up to the household. 

A Shoin-zukuri, beautiful and majestic, even though it was only half the size of the normal houses. The area leading up to it was soft sand with Zen rocks, raked in the traditional swirls and circles of the Buddhist belief. A crooked old bare tree stood to their left, but Kunimi was willing to bet it blossomed with white sakura.

“W-Wow...” 

“You said it...” Shimada observed the dropped jaws with a proud grin. He’d been hoping for such a reaction, having left the description of the house secret up until this point. Twirling the key around his finger again, he strolled up the pathway to the front of the house. He slid it open, having to put a little bit of weight behind it to push it past a small cracked post that it caught on. Just another bit of damage he had yet to fix.

“Alright. Kitchen is that way, bathroom is adjacent, my room is past that if you ever need me at some point, and your rooms are...” He stopped in front of another bamboo sliding door, smiling at the duo as he slid it open.

“Right here~. Make yourselves at home, boys.” Kindaichi was first to enter, a burst of excitement washing away his queasiness as he jogged over the tatami mats and jumped onto the bed near the corner, with an ‘The Adventures Of T-Rex’ duvet set. Kunimi huffed with a twitch of a smile and made his way over to the bed decorated with ‘Kimba the White Lion’. Both of them had pillows and toys a plenty, a plain white rug in the centre, and a TV with an attached gaming system. A bookshelf, closer to Kunimi’s side, held all the books and games Shimada had thought they would need.

“Sorry if it’s a bit childish, I- Uh- I couldn’t really find anything comfy and soft without it being from the kids section...”

“This is fine. Thank you very much, Shimada-san.” He leant against the doorframe, watching Kindaichi happily pull his covers up to his neck and snuggle under, knees to his chest and head resting in crook of a V-shape pillow, a giant dog toy against his back. The smile on his face was worth all the trouble and money it had taken to design and build their room. Kunimi stood back up, fingers brushing against the books on the middle shelf as he read over the titles, eyes glittering with fascination. They were comfortable. They were happy. They were home.

“I’m going to get started on lunch~. Anything you boys want?”

“Grilled corn! Umm, please?”

“Got it~. Kunimi?”

“I like that too, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

“Of course not. Grilled corn is quick, cheap, and easy~.” The boys replied with a synchronised ‘thank you’, before Shimada slid the door closed and moved to the kitchen area. Kunimi hesitated over the spine of one book, before he pulled it out. He went and sat on the bed, looking down at the red leather cover with gold embossing. 

“This looks expensive... And it’s been translated from English...”

“What’s it called?”

“Journey to the centre of the Earth.” There was a slight pause in which Kindaichi fidgeted, settling even further down in the bedcovers, trying to replicate the warmth and pressure from being around his teammates. And the noise. The spine of the book let out a soft creak as Kunimi opened it, for the very first time the book had probably been opened since binding.

“... Read it aloud?” He lay back against his own pile of pillows, crossing his legs at the ankle, and propping the book up on his thighs.

“ _On 24 May 1863, which was a Sunday, my uncle, Professor Lidenbrock, came rushing back towards his little house, No. 19 Königstrasse, one of the oldest streets in the old quarter of Hamburg..._ ”

To the gentle voice Kunimi read the book with, Kindaichi drifted off to a dreamless sleep, cheek pressed into the V-pillow and drool starting to collect in the corner of his lips. Still, Kunimi read on, until he was interrupted with the soft buzz of his phone in pocket. (They had charged their phones before leaving the school, making sure they had texts left, if not calls.)

He lifted his butt off the mattress to retrieve the mobile from his back pocket, unsurprised to see Watari was just checking in.

_How are things going? Are you settled in?_ With a soft laugh, Kunimi tapped out his response before placing the phone next to the lamp on the bedside table, and taking Kindaichi’s example of making himself comfortable. As someone who could even drift off on the hard surface of a classroom table, it wasn’t even two minutes before he succumbed to sleep. Not a dreamless sleep like his best friend, but certainly much better than the nightmares he had experienced beforehand.

“It’s ready! Come and get it!” Shimada’s call went unanswered. He frowned, placing the plates of grilled corn on the table and wiping his hands on his apron before walking to the bedroom door. He softly rapped his knuckles against the thin bamboo, and when there was no answer, opened it a crack in concern. His worries immediately vanished when he saw his two new family members, curled up in their own beds.

One with a book on his lap, hand over the closed cover, lying peacefully on his back.

The other curled up like a cat, snoring loudly as he drooled all over a pillow and trapped a teddy bear in a tight hug.

It was endearing, and Shimada couldn’t help but silently chuckle, sliding the door closed again and returning to the kitchen. He’d just heat the corn up again later.

Across town, Watari was chewing on his thumbnail as he flipped the phone in hand over multiple times, awaiting replies from all his teammates. He wanted to make sure they were okay before he relaxed. Unfortunately, his new brother picked up on this and absorbed the anxiousness, amplifying it into little jitters. Watari accidentally dropped his phone and the resulting clatter as it hit the floorboards had Asahi jump a good few feet in the air with a shriek.

“Sorry! Just my phone.” Asahi jittered and nodded at him nervously, hands fidgeting and foot tapping the ground in habit. It was only when Watari caught him flicker his gaze to the former libero and then somewhere else, he realised that the timid Ace probably wanted to talk, but was too nervous to initiate conversation.

“So... Are there any others, or just us?”

“A-ah, umm... You’ll meet my little sister, ah, when she comes home for middle school. I- If that’s okay with you!”

“Yes, of course~. How old is she?”

“12, s-so not that much younger. Umm, she’s kind of... Blunt? So p-please don’t get angry if she asks about... Umm... Your arms...” Watari gave Asahi a friendly grin, watching the tension in his shoulders loosen as he sat up a little straighter, apparently put at ease by Watari’s laid back nature.

“I don’t mind explaining~. In fact, it makes me sound really cool~!”

“I’m guessing it has something to do with fire...?” Watari blinked. Had he not explained this? Oh god, he hadn’t explained this! It suddenly occurred to him that because Seijou knew, he’d forgotten to tell Karasuno! No wonder a few of them had been staring at him curiously...

“Mhm~. The petrol stations in Ougiminami were causing a blaze in the residential area, and a little boy was trapped, so... I couldn’t leave him there. Even though the car was on fire, I couldn’t leave him there... I couldn’t lift it on my own, so Kyoutani helped in the end whilst Kunimi pulled the kid out, but because I was standing in the flames so long and touching metal... It kind of melted the skin off?” 

“Urp...” Asahi looked a horrific shade of pale green. Pale, from the danger Watari had put himself in, and green from the descriptive injury. Luckily, Watari had remembered to re-bandage his arms before Asahi’s parents had turned up to collect them. 

“Sorry, that might have been too much.”

“N-no, it’s okay. Umm... The boy, is he okay?”

“Yup! We took him to the closest refuge, and then Yahaba went to Ougiminami High on a supply truck with him. Turns out, his older brother was volunteering up there.”

“Th- Thank goodness. I hope they’re both happy. Maybe, umm, when the postal service is back, you could send a letter to check he’s okay?” With a bright grin, Watari sat up a lot straighter in glee.

“That’s a great idea~! I’m sure Ame would love that! Yahaba said he kept asking about me.” Asahi nodded with a small smile and closed eyes, the corners of his eye crinkling with genuine happiness. Here was someone who listened to him, took him seriously, and didn’t complain about his timidness but rather, put him at ease. So far, so good. 

He still startled when the front door opened and slammed shut again.

“I’m home!”

“W-welcome back. Did you have a nice day?” There was the background noise of shoes being casually kicked off and a bag thrown into the corner of the hallway, followed by an exasperated groan.

“Kiyuki-chan is such a drama queen! All she did was scrape her knee, and she cried like a baby for – I swear to god – two hours!” Azumane Mirai entered the room with a flick of her curly, shoulder length hair, a shade lighter than Asahi’s. She had a plaster over the bridge of her nose, a scar from chin to left cheek, and a bountiful of large freckles all over her face. As he put one hand on her hip, Watari noticed they were freckled too, amongst the bruises and cuts. Mirai looked like a hardy teenager, outgoing and unstoppable. A far cry from her older sibling.

“Um. Asa-nii, who’s this?” Watari waved with a melodic ‘lo~’, as Asahi cleared his throat, hunched over anxiously again.

“This is Watari, uh...”

“Shinji.”

“Watari Shinji. He lives with us now.”

“Ohh, the new bro! Nice to meetcha! I’m Mirai.”

“Nice to meet you too~. Cool name.”

“Thanks! It was a gift from my mum.” Watari snorted as the 12-year-old grinned, flicking her long wavy hair over her shoulder with pride. Mirai had a great sense of humour, apparently, and Watari was looking forwards to having a sister.

“Mirai, where is mum?”

“Just parking the car. She’s gonna check your room is safe for new boy when she comes in, so you might wanna move the dirty magazines I hid under your bed.” Asahi let out a small wail of distress, pushing himself out the armchair and flustering as he headed towards the stairs. Unfortunately, a little too late. His mother entered from the back door, into the kitchen, and moved to block him.

“Ah-ah. I told you to clean your room yesterday. If there’s anything in there you don’t want me to see, you should have taken it out then.” Asahi’s mother looked a lot Mirai, except she was taller and lacked the freckles, her skin a darker tan instead. Watari could very easily see where both kids inherited her traits.

“B-bu-But mum! Mirai-!”

“No buts! Except your butt, moving to the living room. Go.” Hunching over himself with a dark blush, Asahi slunk back to the armchair and hid his face in his hands. Mirai snickered as Watari looked between the two.

“Wait, how’s your mum gonna think they’re Asahi’s magazines? Except for being under his bed.”

“Cus mum thinks we’re both straight. We’re about as straight as a _sphere_.” She cackled as a shout from upstairs had Asahi sink lower in the armchair, grabbing a cushion to hide behind. He curled up into a ball with a comical sob, as his mother came back down the stairs and deposited a pile of bikini model magazines on the living table.

“Young man. What have I told you about _this_?”

“It was Mirai!” The woman glanced over at her daughter, and Mirai covered a hand over her mouth with a small gasp.

“Those kind of things, Asa-nii? I- I can’t believe you’d accuse me of such an act!” Their mother sighed.

“Why would Mirai have these anyway, Asahi? She’s a girl, she’d have firemen posters, or guys in boxers. Not scantily clad ladies.” Watari had to cover his mouth with a hand to hold back the building laugh as he watched Asahi’s ears burn bright red, mumbling into the pillow with a high-pitch whine. Doe eyes rolled as Asahi’s mother rolled up the magazines and placed them in the bin.

“Go. Show Shinji your shared room. As for you, Mirai, don’t you have homework?” Ever an angel in front of the parents, Mirai nodded and went to fetch her homework from her bag in the hallway. She paused at Watari’s side, placing a hand around his upper arm and whispering under the noise of their mother using a blender.

“Don’t give me or my bro away. Don’t out us. Or you’ll wish you chose someone else’s house.”

“... I won’t. Besides, I’m not exactly straight myself.” Mirai raised an eyebrow and Watari had just enough time to whisper ‘bi’ before Asahi called him over, wondering why the younger hadn’t followed him up the stairs.

“Coming! Sorry!” He grabbed his phone from the table, checking it with a grin as he noticed replies from Kunimi, Yahaba, Kyoutani, and Matsukawa. He could read them later, right now, he had a bedroom to check out. Asahi waited by a plain white door, a small poster on the front that warned of a danger zone inside. The third year caught Watari’s amused glance towards it and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

“My dad put that there as a joke. I didn’t have the heart to remove it when he left.”

“My dad used to do stuff like that. With the twins, he-... I’m sorry.” Watari cut off, choked up. It felt like something was squeezing his chest, sharp nails digging into his heart. Sympathetically, Asahi rubbed his back until the libero exhaled slowly and peeled open his eyes, wiping away the saltwater that beaded on his eyelashes. 

“Wow, I thought it was gonna be easier to talk about than that.”

“Take your time. I’ll always be around to listen~. And Mirai is surprisingly full of advice.” When Watari laughed, the corners of Asahi’s lips curved upwards and pushed open the bedroom door, leading the way in. It wasn’t a large room by any means, but the belongings were confined to shelves and a single wardrobe, the only other furniture the two beds. 

One was clearly well-lived in, dipping in the middle from where it had been used over and over again through many years. The other bed was brand new, with a metal frame instead of wood, a lavish headboard and clean, crisp bedsheets. The duvet set and pillow were a soft cream, with flickers of brown across them like it was supposed to represent an eggshell. Watari ran his hand along it, feeling the softness under his fingertips. Compared to the hard floor and thin futons he had been sleeping on previously, it felt like a cloud. 

“This is so awesome. Your room is pretty blue though.” The carpet was a dark navy, the walls were pastel blue, and there were decals of a darker royal blue in random swirls and dots.

“Aha, yeah. I haven’t changed it since Mirai was five. She’s my little sister, so she comes first. When we both wanted our rooms decorated but only had enough budget for one, I decided to wait.”

“That’s actually kinda cute. You seem really close knit.” With a light chuckle, Asahi nodded, sitting himself on the edge of his own bed.

“We didn’t have much when we were younger. She was everything to me. When I came home from school, she’d always be here to cheer me up~. She was such a cute toddler. Then she grew up.” He sighed in exasperation, shaking his head wearily.

“The magazine thing? At least once a week. And it doesn’t stop there. She’s the devil, Watari. I don’t know what happened, but after meeting my friends, she became the devil!” Watari couldn’t hold back the burst of laughter that exploded from his tummy, loud and uncontrollable.

“It- It must have been Suga! Or Nishinoya! They- They corrupted my baby sister!” He slid from the bed, wheezing as he hunched over his knees, pressing his forehead into the carpet. Maybe it wasn’t fair to laugh when Asahi _genuinely_ believed his younger sister was the devil, but it was just too funny for someone who had grown up wishing for a sister. 

“U-Umm, your phone is buzzing.” Watari sat up again, clearing his throat to bring himself back under control and picking it up. It continued to buzz in his hands, message after message coming through from Hanamaki. Blue-grey rolled and he scrolled back to the top of the chain.

Hanamaki, lying across the sofa in his new family’s house, was very comfortable holding his phone above his face and spamming Watari. If he wanted to know how the others were settling in, he was going to get a lengthy report. He chewed on some cola laces as he typed, wiggling his toes in the air.

“You make yourself comfortable quickly.” His new brother, of course, was less than impressed at the informal behaviour.

“So? I live here now, Ta-da-shi~.” The boy groaned, lamenting that his mother had left them alone whilst she went off to shop. Apparently, she’d left it until after school in case Hanamaki had any specific requests. He had very sweetly asked for anything sugary, as long as that was allowed and he’d completely stolen the position of favourite son. 

Yamaguchi rolled his eyes as he returned to cutting the vegetables for the stew later that night. He felt his body unwind, tension leaving him and a smile building. Cooking was a release for him, a sense of normality in the blissful peace and quiet.

“So, how comes you know how to cook?” Blissful peace and quiet, which was absent with a sibling. He chopped the carrot a little hard, almost wedging the knife in the cork chopping board.

“Mum works a lot. Dad works even more.” With a frown and furrowed eyebrows, Hanamaki pushed himself up to glance over the top of the sofa, watching Yamaguchi go mechanically through the chopping actions.

“So you’re always alone?”

“Most of the time. But I’m used to it. Prefer it, sometimes.”

“Geez. That’s a morbid thing to say. Being used to being alone? That’s sad.” Another thunk as the knife came down hard again. Hanamaki winced at the force of it, knowing he had unintentionally hit a sore spot.

“Sorry. I just mean, you got be awful lonely.”

“I have Tsukki.”

“Tall, blond and asshole that _isn’t here right now_?” Yamaguchi set the knife down on the side with a deceptive calm, wiping his hands on a tea towel.

“He’s not an asshole. He’s my _friend_. And he would be here if I wanted him to be. But like I said, I **like** to be alone in my free time. This is my house, my safety, my _silence_. Please respect that.” He bowed towards Hanamaki, but the older could see the way his hands shook as he folded them over in front of his legs. Upset, anxious, and _terrified_. That was all he could see in Yamaguchi at the moment.

“Want me to go upstairs?”

“I don’t mind. But please be quiet.” Hanamaki nodded, slowly lying back on the sofa and staring up at the ceiling. He could remember a while ago, when one of his three sisters had gained a sudden desire to be left alone at home, to have nothing but quiet, going through the motions like clockwork with no other thoughts. 

Turns out, she’d been bullied really badly and it had scared her. Made her anxious. Made her push everyone away when she felt like crumbling, but didn’t want to listen to her thoughts. She’d do simple things that didn’t require sound or thinking. Knitting, stitching, doodling... Anything to keep her hands and mind occupied. She’d had a lot of difficulty adjusting to sudden or abrupt changes thanks to an anxiety disorder born from the bullying. 

Unable to stop himself comparing the two, Hanamaki wriggled backwards a little to peer around the back of the sofa. Yamaguchi’s movements were slow, shaky. He deposited sliced carrots into a pot of water, mechanically reaching out to the daikon. Over and over again, chopping finely through the vegetable, unfocused and methodical. They were just like his sisters, when she was trying to avoid an attack. It never worked.

“Hey, Tadashi, come and sit down. I know what’s happening.” Yamaguchi jolted, the knife in his grip slipping and clattering on the countertop. His jaw tightened.

“I thought I asked you to be quiet.”

“Yeah, asked. But I’m _telling_ you to get over here.” There was a loud sigh before Yamaguchi pulled the apron off with quivering hands and came over to look at Hanamaki with a glare that would have been fierce, if it wasn’t so fragile. The third year swung his legs off the sofa, patting the space next to him. Reluctantly, but in no state to resist, Yamaguchi sat down, trying to hide the shake of his hands by pressing them between his thighs.

The sofa shifted as Hanamaki edged closer, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him in close.

“Wh- What are you doing?! Let me go!” He anticipated the struggle and brought his other arm around, tugging Yamaguchi in so that the mop of moss-brown hair was tucked in beneath his chin. He made hushing noises over the shouting for him to release his new brother, until Yamaguchi started to quieten, his shaking increasing. The poor thing was quivering like a leaf and Hanamaki slowly loosed his grip to something more comforting, running a hand through the tangled hair and gently tugging out the knots.

“It’s okay, you’re safe. You’re having an anxiety attack. Come on, it’s okay. Breathe with me, yeah? In, 2, 3, 4, out, 2, 3, 4... That’s it, keep going... You’re doing great, Tadashi.”

“I- I-”

“Shh... Talk in a moment. Get your breath back first. Once you’re calm, then you can tell me what’s going on in that head of yours. Must be noisy, huh? Is that why you like the quiet?” Yamaguchi nodded against his chest, having given up trying to fight his way out and instead leaning into it. It was warm. It was comfortable.

Sometimes, when he was caught off guard by his anxiety, Tsukishima would place a hand on his shoulder and circle his thumb. But it wasn’t like this. It wasn’t like an enveloping hug that acted almost like a shield, that comforted him and brought him back down from an attack, instead of just guiding him through it. With a ragged gasp, Yamaguchi closed his eyes and counted, regulating his breathing first and foremost. His voice was croaky when he managed to squeeze the words out.

“You’ve done this before.”

“Yeah. Yuima – the youngest of my older sisters – had really bad anxiety. When it got bad, I’d hold her like this until she fell asleep. Sometimes Aki would get her guitar and strum it softly, and Fumiko would make us hot chocolate with marshmallows and cream. We would sing to her, all three of us.”

“That- That sounds... Nice...”

“Nicer than being alone, hmm?” Yamaguchi nodded silently. He could feel his breathing return to normal, and his chest wasn’t so tight anymore. The buzzing in his mind had faded to a quiet thrum, and each stroke of Hanamaki’s hand through his hair soothed it even more.

“Thanks.”

“It’s okay. Do- Do your parents know?”

“No? They’re not here often and I don’t want to bother them.”

“Kiddo, you’ve gotta tell them. What if you have an attack when they’re here?”

“It’s never happened.”

“First time for everything. Do your friends know? Do your teachers know? Your coach?”

“Tsukki knows.”

“Only Tsukishima?” Another nod, a little firmer as Yamaguchi recovered. Exhaling slowly through his nose, Hanamaki fought off the urge to sigh.

“Okay. That’s not too bad, but you gotta let more people know so that you’re not suffering alone. You’re gonna need people there, knowing what to do if it happens at home, or in class, or at practice.” Yamaguchi’s nose scrunched up in distaste at the suggestion.

“I’ve got Tsukki, that’s enough. He knows what to do.”

“Yeah? And where is he now? What if he’s off sick?” Hanamaki expected the silence that followed, and this time he couldn’t stop the sigh escaping, gently nudging Yamaguchi to sit up properly.

“Your Coach, and next year’s captain. I want you to tell them.”

“O-Okay.”

“And, at some point before I go off to Uni, tell your parents.”

“Fine.”

“Good kid~.” Yamaguchi huffed, a little of his usual snark creeping in. As soon as he heard that small sound, Hanamaki knew he was in the clear, and a smirk grew on his face.

“Don’t patronise me. I’m only two years younger.”

“Aww, c’mon. Let me enjoy being the older sibling for a while.” He received a raised eyebrow and side glance.

“You come into _my_ house-.” Hanamaki burst out laughing.

On the complete opposite end of the spectrum, Kyoutani was not laughing. Kyoutani was not laughing **at all**. Metaphorical lightning bolts of hatred shot between him and Tanaka as they were trapped in the back seat of Saeko’s minivan. One of them would have been up front, if it wasn’t for one of Saeko’s college friends coming down to help out. And embarrassingly, it was someone Tanaka recognised, whom recognised him back. Someone who got along with his sister very well, after meeting at a Karasuno match and realising they attended the same college.

“Why aintcha helping Kei out, Akiteru?”

“Aha, well, he’s kind of weird around me~. It goes back to high school days, so nothing to worry about.”

“Man, if that was Ryuu, I’d pull him into a headlock until he yields!”

“I think Kei would take my arm off if I tried.” Saeko’s booming laugh filled the minivan, giving Tanaka just enough time to land a hit on Kyoutani unheard. The blond held at his arm, lips curled up into a snarl as he glared at the boy, who just feigned innocent. Golden eyes narrowed. Well, if they were going to play it this way...

“Man, what did you do your little bro to deserve that~?”

“I kind of, well, lied to him?”

“That’s not too bad. I lie to Ryuu all the time.”

“Wha-!? Nee-san!” Saeko cackled once more, and underneath the roar of her laugh, Kyoutani swatted out and managed to land a slap against Tanaka’s bear arm. He smirked smugly in victory as the Karasuno spiker glared at him, and then flickered his eyes up to the wing mirror, checking Saeko and Akiteru weren’t looking, and pulling his arm back. He landed a solid punch to Kyoutani’s shoulder, whom audibly growled and punched back. Within seconds, they were full out battling in the back seat as much as their seatbelts would allow them to.

“Whoa, whoa, boys!” Akiteru turned around to try and separate them, but there was very little he could do from the front seat. Henceforth, as many a weary driver will do with _children_ in the back, Saeko pulled over at the side of the road. 

She was still yanking her keys out the slot as she swung her door open and slid out, spinning on her left foot and grabbing the handle of the back door. Akiteru jumped out his own side, both of them leaving their doors wide open as they wrenched open the back doors in synchronisation. 

Wisely, Akiteru leaned over and – somehow amongst the fray – managed to unbuckle Kyoutani’s seatbelt. He grabbed a wrist in each hand, pulling the vicious teen towards him.

“Hey, hey, calm down! Calm down...” He didn’t have to try and persuade Kyoutani very much. The _second_ that Saeko grabbed her brother around the waist and _**wrestled**_ him out the minivan, Kyoutani had already stopped fighting. 

On the other hand, Tanaka thrashed and tried to get away, until his sister kicked his ankles out from underneath him, placing her knee in the middle of his back and forcing him to the ground. She grabbed his wrists and held them behind his back, in a fearsome grip that he couldn’t escape no matter how hard he tried. She’d excelled many self-defence classes for a reason, and Tanaka was currently at the mercy of that reason.

Saeko’s brutish strength and pure, seething anger.

She used her full weight to press him into the ground, and there was nothing he could do but yelp at the pain as she dug her knee deeper into his spine by accident.

“Ow, ow, ow! You’re hurting me! Nee-san, get off!” To her credit, Saeko did loosen the hold enough that Tanaka _could_ have wrestled his way out of it, if he was so willing to risk his life. She leant down and hissed in his ear, voice thick with fury and venom.

“What do you think you’re doing, Ryuu? I thought you put this fightin’ bullshit behind ya when you started high school.”

“He started it!”

“Oh really? Cus I’ve been watching your every move and it look like _you’re_ the one who hit first.”

“He- He was looking at me-!”

“You grew out of this, Ryuu!” She squeezes his wrists as a warning before backing off, letting him stand on his own. Heaving a sigh, she rests her fingertips on her forehead, shaking it slowly.

“What am I going to do with you...? We’ve been over this so many times. We’ve worked our way through this. I haven’t had to restrain you like that for almost two years! What’s going on, bud?” Saeko knew it was something personal as soon as her brothers shoulders dropped, his head lowering and glancing off to the side with a saddened look. 

Gently, she reached out and nudged his shoulder.

“C’mon. You can tell me anything.”

“... Anything?”

“Anything.” An uneasy, tense pause. Neither of them were really aware that Akiteru and Kyoutani were listening in, leaning against the other side of the minivan.

“Even that you’re replacing me?”

“That I’m- What!? Ryuu, where the _**fuck**_ did you get that idea?!” She regretted shouting when he flinched, shoulders tensing.

“C-cus you got him now. You got bored of me like mum and dad did, so you replaced me. And- And you’re just gonna ignore me until I get the message and leave, and you’ll have a new brother, who- who’s quieter and better behaved and listens to you and-” His words were cut off as Saeko pulled him into a tight hug.

“Shut up, Ryuu. I would _never_ leave you. You’re my brother. And the loudness? The behaviour, the disobedience, everything you think I’m gonna ditch you for? They’re what makes you you. I wouldn’t change ya for the world, not even your smelly feet and atrocious burps. You’re my baby brother, and you’re stuck with that. No one is replacing you, okay?”

“But- but that guy-”

“Is _your_ new brother too. Not a replacement. Think of it as... Extending the family. Just without the crappy pregnancy stage~.” A soft huff of laughter assured her that she’d said the right things, nudging Tanaka off her shoulder and wiping at his eyes with a grimace.

“Has anyone ever told you your crying face is ugly as sin?”

“Yeah, the same half of my DNA as you.” With a telltale grin, Saeko swat him round the back of the head and pushed him towards the minivan.

“Get in, rascal. Come on, boys! We’re going home!” Only Akiteru echoed her enthusiasm with a soft ‘whoop’, before climbing back into the front seat. He watched over his shoulder as Kyoutani buckled back in, and Tanaka refused to make eye contact with him as he unbuckled the seatbelt he’d been wrenched from, and sat back down sensibly. 

He stared out the window, feet up on the seat and leaning against his knees. Suddenly, fingers brushed over his upper arm and he jolted, whirling around with a snarl in case Kyoutani started another fight. But the taller of the two (by just a centimetre, how infuriating!) was doing no such thing. He retracted his hand, but not completely.

“You’re bleeding.” Golden eyes tracked as Tanaka glanced at his arm, back to Kyoutani, and then down at his arm again. There was a bright red-going-purple friction burn striped across his arm from where he’d been wrenched free of his seatbelt, a shallow cut right through the centre. 

Kyoutani might have been tough. He might have been quick to anger and quick to launch into a fight. But he was not cruel. He usually backed off before someone got seriously hurt. This time, although he had not inflicted the wound himself, he had not managed to avoid someone getting injured. When boiled down to bare fact, it was still partly his fault for getting into a fight in the backseat of a minivan in the first place.

“M’sorry.”

“... Don’t worry about it. I’ve had better fights with _kittens_.” He flared up, ready to spit back a just-as-offensive retort, when he caught the wide grin and flickers of mischief in dark eyes. The corners of his lips twitched at the playful challenge, knowing that this time, they weren’t truly fighting and nothing was to be said out of pure spite.

Maybe the Karasuno spiker wasn’t so bad after all.

Kyoutani wasn’t the only one having a revelation. 

Oikawa had come to realise something on a spiritual level.

Living above a shop was _not_ the paradise he had dreamed it to be. Lying in the cheap wooden-frame bed with a thin mattress and even thinner duvet, he couldn’t block out the sounds of the shop below no matter how hard he tried. The constant creaking of the door, with that stupidly annoying little bell. The chatter of old grannies and middle aged bachelors as they met neighbours and friends whilst “picking up a few bits”. The screaming of children who didn’t want to be there.

_‘Et moi, kid.’_

His nose scrunched up in irritation as the beeping of the scanner was steadily driving him insane, even more so than the stench of smoke and the rustle of newspaper coming from the corner of his new room.

His new _shared_ room.

Suddenly, choosing to live with Kageyama didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

“Do you _have_ to smoke in here?” The newspaper dropped a little, Ukai looking over it nonchalantly before turning back to where he was, sighing, the cigarette in his mouth bobbing and shedding ash onto the windowsill.

“S’my room originally, Oikawa. I ain’t changing the rules just because some brat moved in.”

“You never mentioned there’d be a shared room!”

“What, you think I can fit a mansion about this little shop?” Ukai snorted with amusement as Oikawa gave a long groan of absolute agony, flopping back against his bed.

“Look, I’d suggest moving out, but everyone else already has a place.”

“What about sensei? He offered, right?”

“Takeda took in Hinata and Natsu after their house was destroyed by a landslide. You really wanna upset them by kicking them out?”

“N-No!” Oikawa sighed; rolling over onto his side and flipping open his phone. He wasn’t really sure how to respond to Watari’s message, for once silent on the messaging forefront as he struggled to think of a way to explain it. In the end, he settled on sending an exasperated kaomoji. Hopefully, that would get all his words across in a way he couldn’t put into traditional letters.

He was saved from trying to strike up a conversation by another buzz of his phone. Short and to the point, Iwaizumi let Oikawa know he had reached the Kageyama household safely, and he probably wouldn’t be on his phone again until later that night. Pouting, Oikawa tapped out his dilemma. Unlike with Watari, who would roll his eyes and ignore Oikawa’s whining, Iwaizumi would roll his eyes, pretend to ignore the whining, but actually be really concerned and reply. Oikawa had his best friend pretty much wrapped around his little finger.

“I’m curious about one thing.” He lifted his head to observe Ukai over his shoulder, the butt of a cigarette being ground into a small dish on the windowsill.

“You chose to separate from your friend even though we offered three homes with two spaces. Why?” Oikawa paused, bringing his hand up to his mouth, tugging at dry skin on his lips and flicking his tongue out to sweep away blood that beaded from the new cuts.

“We won’t be able to be together in university. He’s going to Yamagata, I’m going to Todai. It’s best to get used to the separation earlier on. Especially seeing as he’s gotten really... Clingy, lately.”

“Clingy?”

“It’s not his fault, I know. But this whole megaquake mess has stirred up phobias and distress, and he needed someone there. He needed all of us there. But Iwa-chan is strong; I know he can pick himself back up. He just needs space to do it.”

“Right. I sort of understand.”

“I’m partly terrified. Of, y’know, just leaving him like that. That’s why even though we’re in different homes; I wanted to be close by. So if he needs me...”

“You won’t have far to run.” Oikawa grinned widely, clicking his fingers at the Coach.

“Exactly~! Like a safety net! I’m not right there to coddle him, but I’m also close enough if he starts to fall again!” This time, it was Ukai who paused, rolling the top corner of the newspaper between his fingers before turning the page.

“Is that likely?”

“Not much. Only really if there’s another aftershock.”

“Oikawa, aftershocks are expected to go on for months...”

“I know. But I mean, the ones around magnitude 5 or more. The others? They’re nothing to us. They’re not worth mentioning. They’re just ripples that have minor significance, tremors that don’t scare us. They make us numb. They make us empty. Other people might think it’s scary, or comment on how it’s a ‘big one’. But we know it isn’t. We’ve see hell, Ukai. We’ve _felt_ hell. We were there when chasms opened up in the ground, and mountains broke. We were there when buildings were broken to dust and people thrown to the earth.”

“Oikawa...” The hollow voice, the blank stare, the compulsive picking at his lips. Ukai knew the third year was emotionally traumatized, but seeing it in person was unsettling. Close to terrifying. He’d expected Oikawa to have nightmares and flashbacks. He’d expected screaming and crying. 

But not this.

Never this.

Not a hollow, empty shell with a monotone voice and expressionless eyes. He’d seen that look before. In war veterans who came into the shop, and spoke of the trauma they’d experienced on the front lines. He’d seen it in the eyes of the woman who only just escaped her abusive husband with her life. He’d seen it in the numb behaviour of the man who’d been raped by his babysitter at 19.

PTSD.

He couldn’t diagnose it, but he had seen it. And in Oikawa’s eyes, there was the same hollowness as the other survivors. Nobody came back from an experience like that unharmed. Whether it showed physically or not, these boys had been beaten into submission by mother nature, and left traumatised by her touch.

“Hey, kiddo?” Life flickered back into molten brown eyes and Oikawa blinked in question.

“You ever thought about seeing a psychologist, or a therapist...?”

“How rude! I have no need!”

“Oikawa. I’m serious. I haven’t even seen half the shit you’ve been through, and I know I’d need help.” For a long minute, what felt like an hour, Oikawa was silent. Then, he sighed.

“I- I can’t waste your family’s money like that.”

“Hey, get used to it. You’re a member of this family now, like it or not.” The teenager lay back down on his side. He looked down at his hands, clutching the duvet like it was a lifeline.

“... Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Y-Yeah. I’ll.... Take the therapy.”

“Good. I’m proud of ya.” That confused him. Scrunching up his nose and raising a brow, Oikawa could only glance over at the man by the windowsill, switched from reading the newspaper to checking his phone. Ukai caught the perplexed look and a smirk twitched its way onto his lips.

“You survived. You lead your team through it and kept them safe. You made decisions that kept them alive, and brought each other back together. For that, I’m proud of ya.”

Ukai was about to find out just how much of an ugly crier the Captain was.

Whilst Ukai was discovering things about Oikawa, Tsukishima was trying his best to _avoid_ learning things about his new family member.

He had come home, keeping his headphones on and music loud the entire journey back, and instantly gone up to his room once they arrived home. He’d closed the door, blocked it with some books, and ignored his mother trying to get him to come downstairs.

_“I’m doing homework”_ , had been his excuse. It worked very well, until it was time to eat. In the Tsukishima household, no matter what anyone was doing, mealtimes were spent together at the table. Back before The Incident that had been something Tsukishima looked forwards to. He’d always rush to the table to tell Aki-Nii all about his day, and the fun things he did with his new friend, Yamaguchi! He’d be eager to hear about all the cool things his big brother did, as the Ace of Karasuno, even though he was just a first year!

Once he’d found out the truth, mealtimes had become awkward, silent traps. Akiteru never knew what to say, and Tsukishima would silently glare at his own meal as he ate as quickly as possible, trying to get away. Things had gotten better, recently. When Akiteru came back from University, Tsukishima had stuck around to listen to the conversations, occasionally nodding or giving a rare input.

Now, however, Tsukishima was adamant about staying in his room. No matter what the rule was, he didn’t want to go and sit and the same table as _The Intruder_ , someone who had come in and shattered his peace and quiet. Someone his parents had allowed into their home, into Tsukishima’s private space, and into Akiteru’s old bedroom. Granted, the space was originally going to be turned into a study room, and giving someone else a home was very kind, but...

Tsukishima didn’t want it. He didn’t want another brother. Another _older_ brother. All it did was drag up bad memories and bitter feelings. It didn’t seem like his parents understood either, coming up to knock on his door and asking him to join them for the meal at random intervals during the cooking process. Until-

“Hey.” Matsukawa hadn’t either bothered to knock. He just pushed the door open, knocking over the stack of books blocking the draught out, and stepping in through the small gap. Tsukishima glared, reaching for his headphones. A pity he’d left them just out of reach

“Aww, c’mon. I’m not that bad, am I?” Tsukishima remained silent, glaring at the curly haired blocker and wishing he would get the message and leave. With a deep, sigh, Matsukawa moved in further, glancing down at the open homework on Tsukishima’s table.

“... Thermodynamics, huh? I remember learning that. Boring as heck.”

“Some of actually _like_ using brain cells.”

“Aha! He speaks!”

“Tch.” Tsukishima scowled, diverting his gaze to his computer screen. He had dragons to take care of, treasure to make, eggs to hatch. There was a rustling before he heard an ‘ooh’ of interest, and then Matsukawa crouched next to him.

“Flight Rising. Nice choice.” Golden eyes widened and he whipped his gaze around to his new brother in shock. A lazy smirk drawled across Matsukawa’s face.

“Search for MinstralMemeMonster420.” Sceptically, Tsukishima located the user, eyes widening a fraction.

“You have that many Wildclaws?”

“Yup~. I started when this was only a Beta game, so I had enough treasure saved up to collect loads of Wildclaw dragons.”

“... What do you do with the hatchlings?”

“Auction them. Why? You interested, Tsukki~?” The silence was all it took for Matsukawa to derive an answer and he snickered.

“Pick any of the unnamed ones, I’ll send it later. Y’know, if you let me burrow your laptop.” At this, the scowl on Tsukishima’s face returned tenfold.

“Come back during business hours.” Matsukawa laughed. Not a snicker or a snigger. A full, heartfelt laugh. He knew it was going to be slow process to get Tsukishima to open up to him, but with little miracles and poking mischief, maybe he could speed up the progress.

“So, you gonna come down and eat, or waste away up here?” Tsukishima took a moment to decide, making a reluctant noise from the back of his throat. He closed the lid of his laptop and stood, not waiting to see if Matsukawa would follow. Luckily, the third year didn’t stay behind to mess with his things, following Tsukishima a few steps behind. When they walked into the kitchen together, the Tsukishima parents couldn’t hide their dropped jaws and wide eyes. Their son quirked an eyebrow and they quickly shook their heads to clear the stupor, his mother setting a plate down at his place.

“K-Kei! Nice of you to join us! Issei, you come and sit over here. Akiteru’s helping a friend at the moment, but we’ll make space for him if he shows up.”

“Sure thing. Thanks, Ma’am.” She swat lightly at his arm as he sat down, bright smile on her face.

“Oh, none of that! You can call us by our first names. I’m Mai, and this is Keita.”

“Is- Is that really okay?”

“You’re family now, Issei~. It’s perfectly fine~.” He nodded, closing his eyes as he smiled wide, fighting back the happy tears that threatened to fall onto the beautiful Tonkatsu Tsukishima’s mother had made.

“So have you been in your new room yet~?”

“Mhm, yeah. I like the colours. Nice ‘n’ rich, olive shades.” Matsukawa had an eye for colour. He wasn’t lying when he said he liked the room. It was dark, kind of feng-shui, like he’d read about in art books. At this time of the year, if things were normal, he’d be in the Aobajosai art room in the middle of a painting-

He cut himself off by expelling air through his nostrils. There was no use thinking back on that. It just made his chest ache, his head throb, his eyes water-

“Oh, Issei, are you okay?” Tsukishima Mai rubbed his back softly, in slow circles, but that somehow only made it worse because he remembered his own mother doing the same thing, and he choked on a sob that tore out of his throat. In a desperate, useless, last-ditch-attempt to not burst into full tears right then and there, he frantically wiped away the budding tears with the side of his hands, dragging lines across from the corner of his eyes to his hairline.

“Here. So you don’t ruin the food.” A humourless laugh bubbled out of his lips along with a ball of spit as Tsukishima passed him the whole tissue box, leaning over the table.

“Kei! Have some sympathy!”

“... I gave him tissues, what more do you want from me?” As Matsukawa dried his eyes and mouth with the tissues, he hid an amused snort as he turned away to blow his nose, not wanting to seem rude in front of the family who had taken him in without complaint. Well, without much complaint. His voice was thick when he turned back to the table to speak.

“It’s okay. Tsukki and I have an understanding~.” He was met with three looks of various surprise. First of all, Mai had almost frozen, mouth forming a little ‘o’ shape and eyes wide. Keita’s eyes were as wide as could go, eyebrows raised higher than Matsukawa thought biologically possible. Tsukishima just stared at him in blatant disgust, a nonsensical look that twisted his entire facial expression into something _hilarious_.

“I- Uh– I think I broke your son?”

“Well... Only Tadashi has ever called him ‘Tsukki’, as far as we know.”

“Tadashi? Oh! Yamaguchi! Yeah, I heard him calling Tsukishima that and thought it was a common nickname.”

“Not if you want to _live_.”

“Kei!” The boy scowled under the admonishment, but Matsukawa could only warmly chuckle.

“I get it, I get it~. I’ll just stick to Kei, then.”

“Like _hell_.” Tsukishima pushed himself up from the table, muttering an excuse as he retreated to his room from the teasing. He paused just past the doorway to hear Matsukawa laughing with his parents, and there was no possible way he could stop the very small smile from gracing his lips.

His new brother wasn’t bad at all.

A good half hour away, Iwaizumi was helping Kageyama to wash the dishes after a warm, delicious meal. He’d very much appreciated that the Kageyama family had asked him what he wanted, and had made him Agedashi Tofu just to feel welcome. 

Currently, Kageyama was scrubbing the plates of with a sponge, rinsing them, and then passing them over to Iwaizumi to be dried. It worked this way. Iwaizumi had offered to wash up in return for their kindness, but Takeda had apparently informed the family about his reaction to washing up the other day, gently suggesting that he may have developed hydrophobia in the face of events.

“Tch.” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, startling Kageyama, who tilted his head in question.

“Nothing, don’t worry.”

“You keep, umm, doing that.”

“Keep doing what?”

“Clicking your tongue.” Kageyama’s volume dropped like he was ashamed to point it out, prompting Iwaizumi to tap his knuckles against the setter’s upper arm.

“It’s just a force of habit~. I’m used to lecturing Oikawa every other minute, so it’s... Quiet. I feel like I have to make a noise to compensate. Ah, sorry. That probably sounds weird.” Sheepishly rubbing the back of his head, Iwaizumi missed the twitch of Kageyama’s lips, the sparkle of admiration in his eyes, the way he stood up straighter with pride. To Kageyama, having someone he looked up to so much speaking casually with him like this... It was almost too good to be true!

But then he stopped that train of thought.

Because yes, he was able to spend time with one of his role models, and they were _brothers_ now, but there were also circumstances he’d rather had not happened. Nothing was too good to be true. It was all so horrific that he wished it was a nightmare.

His senpai had lost their entire families in a rapid force of nature. Iwaizumi had not only had old wounds and phobias dragged into the open by the megaquake and tsunami... He had also sustained mental scars, emotional trauma, and fears that would inhibit him in day to day life. 

“Th-that’s the last bowl, senpai.” Iwaizumi’s warm chuckle came out heartily, like he wasn’t a broken man at all. A broken _child_ , pulled together by the fragile future after being shattered by his past.

“There’s no need for honorific’s here. This isn’t school, where I’d expect you to address me as your upperclassman. This is... This is home, whether I like it or not. So please, drop the formality.”

“Yes sen- Iwaizumi-san!” Bright and beaming, there was no way Iwaizumi could lecture Kageyama into dropping the ‘san’ too. He had a feeling that was impossible feat, almost like telling Oikawa to stop living and breathing aliens-

Ah.

That’s right. 

They hadn’t talked aliens since before the Megaquake. 

Iwaizumi’s nose scrunched up in distaste. Something about that seemed very wrong, like he had lost his best friend along with his mother. He dried his hands on the dishcloth, reaching into the pocket of the navy hoodie he’d burrowed, (much too large, it swamped him – but it was the only colour he’d liked.), and checked his phone. He rolled his eyes at the 7 new messages from Oikawa.

“He never stops.”

“Huh?”

“Oikawa. He never stops whining or complaining or just talking. Sometimes I wonder if he even pauses to breathe.”

“I’m... Sure he breathes?” The genuine confusion from Kageyama had Iwaizumi burst out laughing, only stopping with a wheeze when his phone buzzed again. Kageyama could only blink and watch as the Ace went through his texts, answering each one with the very tip of his tongue sticking out from the corner of his mouth.

Iwaizumi was... Expressive. Very expressive, if one looked close enough or just took time to watch him. It was in the furrowing of his eyebrows, the deepening of his dimples, the way his top lip curled up or cheeks puffed out. 

“Boys! Can you get to bed please?” The call came from upstairs, where Kageyama’s mother was just finishing making the beds. Kageyama let the water drain from the sink, noticing Iwaizumi’s eyes flicker to it as it gurgled.

“Are we supposed to get baths before bed?”

“No. Mum and dad do, but I usually get one in the morning before going out for a jog.” Iwaizumi’s eyes lit up and his shoulders smoothed back.

“A jog? Mind if I join you?”

“As long as you don’t mind being up by 6.”

“Kageyama, I’m usually up at the crack of _dawn_. Six might even be a little late.” Blue eyes fluttered in surprise. He knew Iwaizumi was dedicated to staying healthy, but he hadn’t expected **that** kind of extreme.

“R-Right. Umm. If you get up before me, please leave quietly?”

“You have my word.” A hearty thwack to the back left Kageyama stumbling for a second before he regained his balance and cleared his throat, understanding that Iwaizumi still wasn’t used to being here. Kageyama took the first few steps, fully aware that Iwaizumi was looking around at the decorations and wallpaper and plants-

“My dad likes those. Spider plants, he said.”

“Oh, good choice. Very hard to kill. Did you know they genetically-”

“-Copy themselves? Yes. My dad has many spider plant facts.” Iwaizumi paused to reach out and hold a plantlet in the flat of his palm, inspecting it with a small, sad smile.

“Tough little things. We used to have loads in the hanging baskets outside the school. I bet they’ll be the first thing to grow back.”

“I- Iwaizumi-san...”He shook his head, like he was trying to rattle the thoughts out of his brain and looked up at Kageyama with a stoic face.

“We should get to bed. Your mother asked us to.” There was something hollow in his gaze, green eyes looking dulled, like chrome left bare to the elements too long. Rusted and worn-down, battered and worthless. 

It scared Kageyama.

It scared him to the core that one of the strongest people he knew had been weathered and whittled away to a vulnerable, instable shell. As they entered the bedroom, cramped from another bed being added, he _felt_ , rather than saw, Iwaizumi pause and falter at the doorway. His lips parted in a soft whimper, a breath of air that Kageyama only just heard.

_“Mother...”_ Kageyama whipped around and noticed how wide Iwaizumi’s eyes were, yet the pupils constricting rapidly. The twitch of his jaw line from a slack gasp, and the ragged little breaths he took in. His eyes were fixes upon where Kageyama’s mum was tucking the duvet in on the bed and Kageyama understood.

Iwaizumi missed his mother.

He saw another woman, someone doing the same as his mother would have done, but it wasn’t her. She wasn’t the same. She wasn’t the person who loved him, who’d raised him from a baby and been by his side for 17 years, supporting him though the downs and pushing him to be the best he could.

Kageyama’s mother was not his.

And that was a punch to the chest, icy claws gripping his heart, venomous barbs tearing through his flesh, a million needles prickling his eyes and water dripping down his cheeks and his heart not working _not beating so cold so empty **it hurts it hurts it hurts-**_

“M-Mum, could you, umm... Let us do that? Please?” Kageyama’s mother looked up at them - _blue eyes not green he’d never see green again **his mother was gone**_ \- instantly took in Iwaizumi’s state and quickly stepped out, shutting the door behind her. 

Kageyama took a deep breath in, steadying himself. He was scared. He was terrified.

But he was not in the same petrified state as Iwaizumi. 

So it was up to him to help bring his upperclassman back to earth, to ground him.

“Iwaizumi-san.” Kageyama grabbed his wrist and tugged him over to the edge of the bed, making sure he sat down safely, steadily. He seemed a little off-kilter. And the setter had no idea what to do after that.

It was just like back in the gymnasium, when Hinata had run for help and Kageyama had been left helpless, _useless_. He scowled at his own futility, but then something changed.

Iwaizumi let out a deep, slow exhale. He rubbed at his eyes. He slowly moved to lie down on the bed, the backs of his hands pressed into his eyes. He wouldn’t cry. He refused to cry. Deep inside, he didn’t think he _could_ cry. Everything hurt, but it was a dry kind of loss and emptiness. It was like he’d run out of tears to cry, too fed up to waste anymore energy. But something was- Something was missing...

_‘Oikawa...’_ Usually, no matter when or where, his best friend was right by his side, especially to support him when he crumbled. He cursed himself under his breath when he tried to remember back when _he_ was the strong one, and Oikawa needed his help. It seemed so long ago.

More than three weeks.

More than a month.

It felt like more than a goddamn year. Yet at the same time, it also felt like yesterday, during their morning practice and in the clubroom changing into uniform, and separating to go to their separate classrooms-

And then the ground was shaking, the world was falling

Falling

Fallen

Fallen to pieces and broken and crumbled and _he’d watched someone crushed to death-_

Then Oikawa was there. His best friend was pulling him to safety by the wrist, dragging him from the breaking ruins that was once their school-

(Kageyama was still holding one wrist, gently tugging to try and bring Iwaizumi back to reality-)

And they tumbled across the grass and he fell, he fell, he kept falling-

(Iwaizumi’s body rocked with choked, silent sobs, like he was trying to scream but had no lungs-)

His best friend just picked him up again. Held him close. Protected him, shelter him, _saved his life_ -

(Kageyama sighed with relief when Iwaizumi went slack, breath heaving, but at a normal pace.)

His best friend had saved his life. Iwaizumi suddenly realised that since then, Oikawa had remained strong. He always had been strong, but it was only in the face of disaster, when everyone else was weakened, that Oikawa Tooru stood strong and tall, a beacon of inspiration and the vessel of hope that had carried them through the aftermath.

He was the reason they were still alive. Were still together. Were in comfy beds in warm homes and adapting back to normality with only scars and memories of what they’d been through. Iwaizumi couldn’t be prouder of him. His best friend since seven, his brother by choice, his platonic soulmate. 

Slowly, Iwaizumi removed his hands from his face, blinking his eyes to clear the blurry haze. The first thing he realised was that his wrist was still in Kageyama’s firm grip, and he suspected that it was the physical contact that had initiated those memories, calming him and bringing him back to their current time, more at peace than he could have ever imagined. He weakly smiled up at blue eyes and a tense, worried frown.

“Thank you.”

“I- I didn’t do anything?” With his other hand, Iwaizumi tapped the firm grip around his wrist and Kageyama retracted it like it had burnt, a very slight blush with embarrassment. 

“It helped, so thank you.” Kageyama nodded slowly, his muscles losing their tension.

“Will you be okay?”

“In due time. But for now, let’s do what your mother said and get to sleep.”

“Okay.” Kageyama went to fetch his pyjamas and change in the bathroom, giving Iwaizumi a few more moments to just reflect on all that had happened. Maybe, deep down, there were still problems and trauma. But on the surface, Iwaizumi felt calm. He... Accepted what had happened. In a way. He didn’t like it, and he _wanted_ to deny it, but for the most part, he was aware there was nothing he could have done to stop it.

He couldn’t change the past, and he couldn’t see the future. There was no way he knew what was going to happen. There had been no warnings. It had been so abrupt, so quick, it was like the earth had just been thrown out of orbit.

Orbit...

Space...

Aliens...

Oikawa. With an indignant huff, Iwaizumi found his phone lying abandoned on the bed and opened the message stream.

To: Oikawa  
 _.:: Sleep well. Text me if you have a nightmare. ::._

It didn’t take too long for a reply to come through.

From: Oikawa  
 _.:: Sweet dreams, Iwa-chan! ::._

The corners of his lips twitched upwards. Just as he was about to press the back button, he noticed the scroll bar on the message. Brow furrowed and squinting his eyes, he scrolled down. And nearly burst into tears all over again, but the good kind this time.

The ugliest alien he had ever seen, created from lines and brackets and Japanese kanji. It was just like Oikawa to catch him off guard like that, and Iwaizumi was still grinning as Kageyama re-entered the room. He caught sight of the huge beaming grin and blinked, before sighing as he realised Iwaizumi had fallen asleep without even changing into pyjamas, flat on his back above the covers and phone lying on his chest, still unlocked. 

Responsibly, he locked the phone and placed it on the side, then very carefully and slowly moved Iwaizumi around until he was tucked under the covers. His face wobbled into a withheld smile, inwardly squealing at the thought the _he_ was now the brother of his role model! Climbing into his own bed, Kageyama was fully prepared to slumber. He took last glance out the window.

The sight of stars and the dark universe was reflected in Yahaba’s eyes. It was nearing 11pm, and everyone else in the Ennoshita household was fast asleep. He could even hear Ennoshita himself snoring, from down the hallway. With a sigh, Yahaba rested his chin atop his arms, folded on the windowsill as he kneeled on the bed.

His eyes traced shapes in the skies. Constellations. His entire expression softened as he picked out the Zodiac constellation, Leo. He lifted a finger, tracing over the shape and pausing at every star.

1  
2  
3  
4  
5  
6  
7  
8  
9

Nine stars, all connected to each other, specks in the expansive universe that shone brightly, breaking through the absence of light to reach earth.

Yahaba couldn’t help but feel connected to the constellation, in a way. Nine stars, nine boys. Elements that banded together in the vacuum of space to create something bright and beautiful. Children who had survived hell and come out still intact, not unscathed, but together. 

Dizziness from exhaustion wrapped around his head, and Yahaba was eternally thankful for the softness of the bed as he passed out. The last thing he registered was the comfort of the pillows, the sound of his new brother snoring, and the 9 stars of Leo shining brightly through his window.

Everything was in place. 

Everything was going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONE CHAPTER TO GO.
> 
> Additionally, I am now taking requests on Tumblr!   
> Any Haikyuu!! fic you want, I will do!  
> I'll do rare-pairs, I'll do smut, I'll do AU's, I'll do collaborations, A N Y T H I N G.  
> Please drop a request in my ask box, or IM!   
> (https://www.tumblr.com/blog/russiansunflower3)


	18. One ending, one beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't waNT TO UPLOAD THIS.  
> I don't want it to end.. ;A;
> 
> PS; I feel Kunimi on a spiritual level.

“Tokyo, Tokyo, Tokyoooo~!” Natsu clapped her hands as she sang her little song, sitting in her brother’s lap as the coach powered on, towards the capital city. Or really, the outskirts of Tokyo. As a surprise, Fukurodani academy invited Karasuno, Shiratorizawa, and Aobajosai to their collective schools for a training weekend with a twist. 

Whilst it was going to be predominately volleyball, the focus was on the bonds between the boys, letting them see each other and being reassured they were alive. At the same time, there were new friendships and support networks to create, hence inviting two schools who had never interacted with Nekoma and Fukurodani on a personal level.

Shiratorizawa academy had kindly offered up one of their coaches. With 38 seats, it was perfect for the three teams. Technically, Natsu could have had her own seat, but she kept bounding out of it in excitement to go and talk to absolutely anyone who would be willing to listen. She’d taken a liking to Tendou – Tendou! Of all people! – And Ushijima. Strange, because they were polar opposites, but Natsu wasn’t the type to judge and had quickly marked them down at becoming her new friends.

“Natsu, sit stilllll!” In a bid to stop her darting around the coach whilst they were driving, Hinata had been ordered to hold her on his lap. Something the little girl was very annoyed with. She puffed out her cheeks, folded arms, and huffed. Sitting still was very difficult for someone of her age, and Natsu quickly grew bored. She looked around for something, anything interesting. 

In the seats in front of them, she could see Kindaichi’s hair poking over the top, and she could hear Kunimi’s soft mumbling as they conversed. But it was only boring upcoming exam stuff – Not what she wanted! To the left, Oikawa and Iwaizumi spoke in surprisingly quiet volumes, as not to disturb the two in front of _them_ , Tsukishima and Yamaguchi. The latter had fallen asleep, using Tsukishima’s shoulder as a pillow. The blond wasn’t bothered. He scrolled through his iPod, selecting a new song to play through his headphones before resting his head on the back of the seat.

Oikawa and Yamaguchi were her favourites, but both were occupied with something other than the 5 year old. She heaved a mighty sigh, sounding much too worn out for a child, then twisted her head around. Daichi and Suga were sat behind Oikawa and Iwaizumi, scrutinizing through a sheet with some new signals on, for new formations and attacks they had created since the last time they saw either Nekoma or Fukurodani. 

“Natsu, I said sit still!”

“Shou-nii is boring! I wanna play!”

“We can’t play; we’re on a bus...” Kageyama, in his usual seat next to Hinata, rolled his eyes. He’d had this practically all the journey, and they were still only halfway. The one time Hinata was acting responsibly was the one time it caused a greater annoyance than being dumb.

“Just let her go. She’ll settle with someone.”

“Bakageyama! Don’t make it sound like I’m marrying her off!”

“Wait, who’s getting married?” Leaning up over the back of Hinata’s seat, Hanamaki smirked as he asked. Natsu absolutely beamed, reaching up to his face and patting his cheeks.

“Me! I’m gonna get married! Shou-nii can be the flower girl!” Anybody in hearing range who had been paying attention had to cover their mouths to hide snickers, or laughed loudly. Hanamaki was one of those who laughed.

“You gonna make him wear a dress~?”

“Yes! A pink one! A big puffy princess dress!” 

“I’m sure he’ll look lovely, Natsu~!”

“S-Suga-Senpai, don’t encourage her!” He only giggled, leaning in closer with a mischievous grin.

“Who’re you gonna marry?” Natsu paused, very seriously bringing a hand up to rest on her chin, fingers drumming against her lips. 

“Waka-chan.” It didn’t take a genius to figure out she meant Ushijima Wakatoshi. 

Shiratorizawa, with the exception of their captain, howled with laughter. Hanamaki, Matsukawa, and Nishinoya joined in with their caterwauling, whilst Daichi, Suga, and Tanaka tried to pretend like they weren’t holding back laughter. Above the noise, Oikawa wailed _“Don’t do that to yourself!”_ , Iwaizumi having burst into ugly snorts next to him, shoulders shaking as he hunched over to hide his laughter.

Hinata, in comparison, stared at his smiling baby sister, still perched in his lap, with absolute horror.

“You’re too young! You’re never getting married! You’re not dating until you’re 20!” From the front of the bus, Ukai sighed, but even he couldn’t help be amused.

“Alright, calm down, ya hooligans!” The noise simmered down to a few cackles and uncontrollable snort-giggles. Even Tsukishima was still snickering, but that was mainly because not only had Yamaguchi slept through the entire thing, but he could see Hinata’s horror-struck face and hear Oikawa’s genuine weeping at how his favourite little person had been corrupted. All seemed to fall back into peace, until...

“I apologise, Natsu-san, but I do believe I am too old for you to marry.” 

“That’s okay. You can wait! I grow up quickly!” There was no stopping or controlling the noise level this time around. It only grew and ascended, and with so many teenage boys on the bus, Ukai relented. He sighed with irritation, until Takeda pat his shoulder comfortingly.

“Only 45 minutes to go.” He groaned, slumping down in his seat and resigning himself to overhearing far too much for the rest of the journey.

Of all the things he needed to know, the mating ritual of kangaroos versus the mating ritual of cassowary’s debate was not one of them. How had they even gotten onto that subject? He had no idea. At the very least, the boys were trying to keep it PG thanks to Natsu’s attendance, but if he had to hear one more shitty substitution for the term penis-

“A kangaroo’s Purple-Headed-Yogurt-Slinger is forked!” – That was _it_.

“All of you sit down and shut up; I want absolute silence until we arrive!”

“We’re here.” Tendou wore a particularly smug face as he pointed at a sign they’d just passed, attached to the gates welcoming them in to Fukurodani, the school that was hosting the weekend event. The coach slowed to a halt, the doors opened, and 27 boys plus 1 girl filtered off. Some, more enthusiastically than others, elbowing each other and practically fighting to escape the vehicle. 

Within seconds, only Tsukishima, Kunimi, Kiyoko and Yachi remained. The former two were sending Ukai an expression that begged he _never_ make them do anything like that ever again. He had a feeling they would disappear when it was time to leave. 

Much less murderous, Kiyoko took a minute to breath, turning to the red-faced manager sitting next to her. Yachi hid her face in her hands, but the embarrassed glow was visible all the same. 

“Yachi-chan, we can get off the bus now~.”

“Th-They were talking about- Eep!” She cute herself off with a shameful squeak, and Kiyoko hid a dainty smile behind her hand as she sympathetically pat Yachi’s shoulder with the other.

“I’m sure they’ll behave now they’re off the bus.” Her glance slid to the windows, where she witnessed an enthusiastic Bokuto throw himself towards Hinata and starting a domino effect with those closest. 

“... Perhaps.” 

As soon as Bokuto had seen Hinata, there had been no holding him back. Akaashi had tried, but Bokuto had slipped away just a second too early for him to grab the back of his collar and prevent the Ace from bursting forwards and throwing himself at the crow. Akaashi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he watched about seven people taken out by the flying tackle.

“Akaashi.” What a _relief_ , he thought, as Nekoma came strolling over from their minibus, on the other side of the car park. Kenma quietly tiptoed up to his side, their elbows brushing even as he continued to play on his PSP.

“Welcome back, Kenma. Where’s Kuroo?” Kenma stiffened, breath hitching inaudibly, and missing a button on his game, breaking a combo. Instantly, Akaashi felt concern – worried.

“Kenma?”

“He- He’s helping someone off the bus.” Akaashi’s shoulders loosened in relief before he tensed again. If someone needed help off a bus, then they probably weren’t in good shape. Kenma’s eye flickered up, catching the questioning look, and he nibbled his bottom lip before his voice dropped to just a whisper.

“One of the second year classrooms collapsed. He- Fukunaga was trapped.” Akaashi turned around, looking in the direction of the minibus and watching as Kuroo approached, walking alongside the second year with the left leg of his uniform tacked up. He was leaning heavily against Kuroo, despite the crutches.

“O-Oh... I’m sorry.” He laid a gentle hand on Kenma’s shoulder until the shorter nodded softly, letting Akaashi know he was okay. Then, his lips twitched up in amusement.

“Shouldn’t you be doing damage-control?” He flicked a finger out towards where Bokuto was bouncing around excitedly; bothering anyone he could with his over-the-top enthusiasm. He flitted from person to person, never sticking to one conversation too long, and leaving people stunned in his wake. Akaashi sighed once more, before walking over to them.

“Bokuto-san, please calm down.”

“Akaashi!!! Akaashi, look! It’s _Ushijima_!” A small huff of amusement escaped him at Bokuto’s excitement before Akaashi reached out a hand to shake in greeting.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ushijima-san. Welcome to Fukurodani. Please excuse Bokuto, he’s a little... Impulsive.” The captain shook their hands with a firm grip, and then nodded after a pause.

“So I see. It is a pleasure to be here. Thank you for your invitation.” Akaashi stepped back to let him pass, leaving Konoha and Komi to lead their guests into the rooms they would be using overnight. His smile came easier, a genuine grin when Suga and Daichi approached.

“Nice to see you again~.”

“Happy to be here! Is everyone okay?”

“Everyone in Fukurodani only sustained minor injuries, but...” His glance flickered over to Kuroo, who had joined Bokuto’s side and was harassing Oikawa with him, but Daichi caught it.

“Did- Did anybody lose their lives?”

“Not their lives. It’s not really my place to tell.”

“I understand, I’ll ask Kuroo later.” For the rest of the conversation, Daichi was distracted. He couldn’t stop his gaze sliding over to Kuroo and lingering for a moment or two, worried about the Nekoma players. They may not have been the best of friends, but the two teams were close enough to know each individual by name, and worry about each other. He knew Kenma was okay when he saw Hinata bouncing around as usual. If it had been Kenma, there was no doubt the ginger would be more sullen.

Kuroo, too, did not seem off. He still wore his smug smile, still trotted along with Bokuto at every opportunity. Currently, they were pestering Oikawa, and by extension, Iwaizumi. Bothering them, that was, until Bokuto burst out that he was bored and the nets were already set up. Things took a drastic change within seconds. Oikawa lit up, enthusiasm bubbling through his veins.

“W-Well, what are we waiting for?! Let’s play!”

“Oi, don’t you think we should get settled first?”

“No time like the present, Iwa-chan! Let’s play!” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, partly because Oikawa was exasperating, and the other part because his words were faultless. It was absolutely true, something they had learned throughout this whole event.

Treasure every passing second. There’s no guarantee the next second will come. There’s no warning for when something get abruptly taken away. In one second, the ground had shaken. In 100 seconds, they had been thrown from normality. In 3600 seconds, they had lost everything. They had watched a wave scour the land like the black coat of the reaper, stealing souls with every touch, ending lives within its clutch.

“-Waizumi? Iwaizumi? Iwaizumi Hajime!” He blinked back into reality, not realising he had blanked, as Oikawa shook him. When the hazy cloud lifted from Iwaizumi’s eyes, Oikawa released his shoulders and exhaled slowly in relief.

“Tobio-chan warned me you were doing that.” Bokuto owlishly watched in confusion, poking over Oikawa’s shoulder whilst Kuroo hung back with a frown, concerned for someone he had only just met. The feeling of being _pitied_ infuriated Iwaizumi and he shrugged his shoulders.

“S’nothing. Come on, let’s go and play, if you’re so eager.” With a whoop, Bokuto started leading the way to the gymnasium, dragging Oikawa with him. Brown eyes only managed to snatch one last look at Iwaizumi, before he was pulled into the gymnasium. He was surprised to see they weren’t the first ones there. Hanamaki and Matsukawa gave him matching smirks, whilst Watari grinned over from the court, waving to the sound of Kyoutani smacking a ball past the net as hard as he could. Kunimi and Kindaichi were on the other side, attempting to block.

“Wha-?! You guys!”

“Took you long enough, captain! We thought you’d beat us here for sure!” He blubbered, eyes welling up with bulbous tears and lips wobbling into a quivering smile. He probably would have burst into tears if it hadn’t been for the hand that lightly smacked the back of his head.

“Pull yourself together. Your team is waiting for you.” He drew in a deep breath.

“Alright, let’s do some game-play!” 

“We don’t have enough for a six on six, _and_ there’s an odd number of us.” Watari cleared his throat, holding out his arms. They were no longer bandaged, thanks to treatment from Karasuno general hospital. However, the skin graft was still in the healing stages, and there was no way he would be able to risk a receive.

“I’ll referee, so you can do 4 vs. 4?”

“I think you’re miscounting~. It’ll be 5 vs. 5.” Kuroo grinned from the doorway, Bokuto vibrating in place next to him. Oikawa clapped his hands with glee.

“Alright! I’ll take Iwa-chan!” Oikawa looked over at Yahaba with an encouraging smile.

“I’ll take Kyoutani.”

“Mattsun!”

“Kindaichi.”

Kunimi-chan~!”

“Hanamaki-senpai.” Now that it was his turn to pick again, Oikawa turned to the two newcomers.

“What positions do you play?”

“ACE! I’m the Ace!”

“Middle Blocker.”

“Kuroo-chan, you’re with me, Boku-chan, you’re on team Yahaba!” As both players took their positions on the court, Matsukawa and Hanamaki made eye contact through the net and promptly burst into loud sniggering. Iwaizumi and Kyoutani, the closest to each of them respectfully, gave them questioning glances. It was Matsukawa who recovered first.

“B-Boku no pico.” There were synonymous groans of disgust from around the court and maybe a few snickers. Kunimi had been holding a ball, ready to pass to the first server, but he promptly let it go, holding both hands up in mock surrender.

“No. No, I’m not dealing with this. Not today. I’m out.” He shook his head, fringe brushing over his closed eyelids as he stepped away, only encouraging Matsukawa’s deep laugh to echo louder, and Hanamaki to cackle without restraint.

“Geh! Kunimi-chan, no! We haven’t even started yet!” He gave Oikawa a deadpan stare, but then the captain pouted pathetically and put his hands together like he was begging. Kunimi sighed and dragged his feet back into position. 

“... What’s Boku no pico?” Set off once more, the meme team dragged Kuroo and Oikawa down with them in their cesspit of snickering, whilst Yahaba sighed and reached across to pat Kindaichi on the back. 

“Stay innocent, Kindaichi.” He looked at Yahaba in confusion, blinking with wide eyes and hands fumbling at the bottom of his shirt. He hadn’t said something wrong, had he? Iwaizumi massaged the bridge of his nose, feeling irritation rise.

“Alright you disgusting children. That’s enough pop culture references and disturbing everyone. Let’s get the game started.” With a nod towards Kunimi, Iwaizumi gestured towards the other side so that Hanamaki could serve first. He was still composing himself as he picked up the ball and stepped behind the back line. Iwaizumi shifted, lowering his stance to the point where he was almost falling forwards. 

The ball was rolled between two flat palms, Hanamaki taking a deep breath in to steady himself. Then, he threw it up into the air, pulled back his arm, and swung it forwards, pushing the ball up and outwards. It soared over the net like a mountain and he internally cursed hitting it a little too early, a little too high. It was an easy receive, perfectly positioned above Oikawa’s head, who set to Kuroo. 

It couldn’t be called perfect. It couldn’t be called flawless. Honestly, it was a complete mess. Kuroo had jumped a little too high and close to the net, ending up with a ball to the side of his face instead of in line to spike. By some miracle, or perhaps Kuroo’s quick thinking, he managed to headbutt the ball over the net. Having witnessed the disaster and thinking they were safe, neither Kindaichi nor Kyoutani were in position to receive. 

A wild flail sent the ball careening off towards the back of the court. It was still too low, so Bokuto had to use a dig to bump it up. The problem? He was definitely not a setter. If anything, he was slightly above average, which was not a good combination with a team he had never worked with before. None of them were ready and the ball dropped into the centre of their court. Watari sharply whistled with two fingers in his mouth and held his arm towards Oikawa’s team. The first point was theirs! 

A quick celebration with high fives and slaps on the back was all they had time for before Oikawa tugged Kuroo out of their celebratory circle.

“What kind of sets do you like?”

“Significantly higher than you guessed~. And slower too, since I have it close to the net. Ever head of an inferential time difference?” Oikawa’s eyes glittered.

“Yes! I’ve always wanted to try that, but Iwa-chan couldn’t get the timing right!” Ignoring Iwaizumi’s protest in the background, Kuroo smirked, hands on his hips.

“If you set it right, I can show you~.” Kunimi tilted his head in feigned ignorance. He’d heard of the technique, but he’d never researched it or seen it done. From the name alone, he could gander a guess. He paused to brush his fringe aside, annoyed by how long it was getting, and watched as Iwaizumi served the ball. Before the game, they’d decided it would only be casual play, so they wouldn’t fuss around with rotations and swapping places.

“Nice serve!” Bokuto received it, sending it to Yahaba with a perfectly still ball, no spinning, no wobbling. From there, Yahaba found it fit perfectly in his hands.

“Kyoutani!” Wisely, having been knocked in the game against Karasuno, Kindaichi scattered closer to Yahaba. It was a good decision, as Kyoutani powered forth and leapt up, curving his body like a tightly wound spring, releasing all the potential energy as a hardy spike that broke through Kuroo and Oikawa’s block, straight to where Kunimi was already ready and waiting. It was hard to see the exact angle, but he managed to send the ball upwards and Matsukawa sprinted to the front line with a call of _‘Mine!’_ and volleyed it over. 

Except for one thing. Kindaichi held his arms tall and strong, perfectly spaced to block the ball and have it rebound towards where Matsukawa had been standing before he’d moved in to spike. Iwaizumi grinned, proud of the first year, before he sent the ball back to Oikawa with a graceful flying fall. There was no way he’d be up and off the floor in time.

“Oikawa!”

“Got it, Iwa-chan~!” The ball was once more launched against gravity, in a slow arch that was high and tightly tucked in to the net. Kuroo crouched, ready to jump, and waited until the blockers on the other side had left the ground to recoil back down, relying on his muscular calves to push him up fast and high, just enough to spike the ball over the blockers as they descended back to earth. Having recognised what his friend was doing, Bokuto had leapt forth, but missed by centimetres.

“Yay~.” 

“Dammit!” The others moved in to congratulate Kuroo and celebrate their second point in a row, but Kunimi hung back. His eyes were wide, his lips parted with a breath of awe, and his chest felt like it had just been filled with air that glittered and sparkled, fluid in his body like cold water on a summers day, yet a warm, crackling fire in the mid of winter. His fingers twitched and trembled with _longing_.

He wanted it. 

He wanted that move. He wanted to trick taller, stronger blockers into giving him an open space. He wanted to tap the ball over the tips of their fingertips, looking down on their frustrated expressions as they realised they’d been played like fools. He wanted a weapon of his own, more than simply conserving energy. 

Although it was a grand strategy, especially in long tournaments that had triple sets and difficult opponents, it wasn’t something that made up for his lack of height and strength. 

This move, however... This... ‘Inferential time difference’... It would give him the weapon he so craved for getting around the block. It would give him the means to fight on the same skill level as his teammates. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, a habit born from childhood that he did whenever he selfishly wanted something. 

He could imagine using a move like that against Dateko in their next tournament. He could string them on, alternate between using this move and not. He could have them jumping too soon, or failing to jump because they expected him to pause.

It was perfection. 

The greed glittered in his eyes, something Kuroo was not oblivious to as he looked casually around to check his team were back in their positions. He turned back to the net with a dangerous smirk, agreeing within himself that since he had taught Karasuno’s Tsukishima to block, he could teach Seijou’s Kunimi to _render it useless._

How cruel.

How _**fun**_. 

A little voice in the back of his head whispered how jealous Bokuto would be if he took on a personal student, but then he chastised himself for thinking something like that towards one of his best friends. Maybe he could convince one of these newcomers to look up to the noisy owl? 

His mind wasn’t really on the game as it continued, going through the motions on nothing more than muscle memory. There was only one other first year in Seijou, and he seemed to have pretty much everything under wraps with his current senpai. Bokuto wouldn’t be entertained enough teaching someone that jittery either. He needed a student with pure energy, not _nervous_ energy. 

Kuroo wasn’t too aware of Shiratorizawa, but he was pretty sure they had at least two first years. Maybe he could convince/persuade/corner one of them into looking up to Bokuto? Then again... Why learn from a number 5 spiker when you have the third best on your team? A heavy sigh escaped him just as the other side shouted in joy at Hanamaki managing to score a no-touch service ace. 

“Cheer up, Kuroo-chan! It’s not that bad, we can take those points back!” He spared a smile towards Oikawa.

“Easier said than done, Oi-ka-wa~.”

“Heh. We’re only four points from winning anyways.” 

“It’s not about the winning, Kusokawa, it’s about taking part.” Oikawa rolled his eyes with an exaggerated gesture of exasperation.

“It’s a _game_ ; Iwa-chan. Somebody has to win and somebody has to lose.”

“It’s a friendly game. It’s for fun, not for victory.” The closest to Iwaizumi, Matsukawa reached out and teasingly put a hand on his forehead, about to provoke him by commenting on how he must be sick for losing his competitive spirit, when he stopped and frowned instead, pressing his palm a little flatter.

“I was gonna make a joke, but actually, you are pretty warm...” Iwaizumi waved him off, batting his hand away like a mosquito, nothing more than an annoyance.

“It’s just a hot day.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Just a hot day.” If the repetition wasn’t warning enough, the way Iwaizumi’s voice dipped cautioned Matsukawa to step off. He withdrew his hand, nodding as he returned to his place on court. He glanced over once more before Hanamaki served again, but all throughout their rally, he noticed everyone’s eyes flicker over to the Ace at some point. He wasn’t the only one worried, with good reason. 

Iwaizumi tended to hide when he was sick. He would power through like it was nothing more than a tickle in the back of his throat, even if he could barely breath. Many times in the past, since Kitagawa days, he had given them cause for concern, with two incidents where he’d passed out mid-practice with a burning fever. 

Oikawa was undoubtedly the most distracted. His set were off, and the team had to compensate for that, allowing the others to catch up with them quickly. It was down to the final point, either a winning point or taking it to a deuce, when the fever seemed to get too much to handle. Iwaizumi slumped.

“Oh Sh-!” Matsukawa had to choose between saving the spiker or saving the ball, but there was honestly no comparison between the two. The other team did not celebrate their point gained, instead freezing in place as they watched Iwaizumi pass out into arms that were only just there before he impacted the floor. His knees might bruise, but at least it wasn’t his nose that had taken the brunt of the impact. 

“Iwaizumi?” He didn’t react to getting shaken. Immediately, Kuroo and Bokuto moved over to the side in unison, one of them grabbing a water bottle and the other grabbing a plastic chair. Without words, Matsukawa lifted his friend off the floor and made sure he was balanced in the seat before moving aside to let Watari though. 

Watari was experienced. Watari had received multiple types of medical training, from all kinds of professionals. He was easily able to identify dehydration and sunstroke. 

“We need to move him into the shade, preferably somewhere cool, with access to water close by.” Bokuto nodded.

“The rooms everyone is staying in have air conditioning and there’s a bathroom linked to each one. We could pull the curtains across and that would make it dark.”

“Lead the way, Boku no pico.” The light reference to earlier elicited a few amused looks and twitches of smiles, putting the others slightly at ease. Hanamaki was pleased to have helped, even in that tiny way. Matsukawa stepped aside and nudged him. Oh! Of course! Apart from Iwaizumi, he was the strongest one here, (He wasn’t counting Kuroo or Bokuto, considering he had no idea of their strength and abilities), and there was someone that needed carrying.

He manipulated Iwaizumi’s limp limbs, allowing him to slump over his shoulder, before picking him up in a fireman’s lifts. His cheeks puffed out as he rose to standing. In the three and a half weeks since finding homes at Karasuno, Iwaizumi had put on twice what he’d lost due to their lack of food at the beginning of their ‘journey’.

“We need to put him on a diet.”

“He’s fine, Makki~. You’re just getting weak.” The challenge thickly coated Oikawa’s voice, and Hanamaki knew it was a cheap, dirty provocation, but he couldn’t fight the way it niggled at his pride.

“Oh yeah? I’ll show you whose weak.” He jostled Iwaizumi into a more comfortable position – for both of them – and followed Bokuto at a slow jog. They garnered a few looks from those lingering outside in the sunshine and relaxing, but nobody moved to ask what happened or intervene. The only one who acted on his curiosity and concern was Akaashi, who pardoned himself from talking to Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, and Kenma, to follow after the band of sweaty teenage boys. They’d clearly being playing a long, hard game. 

“Bokuto-san.” Lithe and quick, Akaashi reached the front quickly, keeping pace with Bokuto’s slow jog.

“Akaashi! Guess what!? We were just playing, and then Iwa had a fever, and then he fainted and we all freaked out!”

“Ah, I see. Are you heading towards the guest rooms?”

“Yeah! Cus they’re cool and dark!”

“Very good. I’ll inform coach of this development. Please make sure only three people accompany Iwaizumi-san. We wouldn’t want to overwhelm him.”

“Will do, Akaashi!” He nodded at Bokuto with a gaze full of trust, separating off from the group to head towards the Staff room, which was realistically just a normal room with access to a coffee machine. He slowed to a stop and caught his breath before knocking politely on the door. 

“Come in!” Ukai, Naoi, a man about their age he didn’t recognise, and Nekomata seemed to be in the middle of a card game whilst Takeda stirred a coffee and Washijo watched on with interest. Yamiji was closest the door, and blinked as soon as he realised it was one of his boys in the doorway, breathing heavily and brows furrowed in second hand concern.

“Akaashi, what’s wrong?”

“Iwaizumi-san collapsed.” Instantly, all eyes were on him, and three in particular widened with concern. Those three being Ukai, Takeda, and the man he didn’t recognise. He figured that maybe that was the Aobajosai coach, seeing as he was the one who appeared almost frantic over the information.

“He collapsed?”

“Yes, Bokuto-san is leading the team to the guest room for Seijou.” Quietly, with a falsified calm, Takeda placed his coffee back on the side.

“Can you show us the way, Akaashi?” He nodded, straightening up and stepping back in a gesture that he was ready when they were. Moving to the fridge-freezer, Naoi pulled out a bag of ice and chucked it at the man Akaashi didn’t recognise. 

“Go take care of your boys, Mizoguchi.” 

“Thanks.” Without waiting to see if he was being followed, Akaashi took off at a little faster than a jog. He could hear heavy footsteps behind him, counting it as two people. For some reason, the corridors seemed longer when he wished they could be shorter, when there was someone in need. As he exited the academy building, his fast pace kicked up dust and he was suddenly aware that he’d been gaining speed with something akin to desperation. 

He paused, checking over his shoulder. Takeda and Mizoguchi were only a few meters behind, the former giving him an encouraging nod to carry on. Another dust cloud billowed under his feet as he pushed off, entering the structure that hosted the guest rooms. It was newer than the academy building, but designed in an old fashioned way with wooden slates and floors, a nightingale floor spread along one of the corridors for entertainments. 

It chirped and creaked underfoot as Akaashi slowed to a stop in front of an open sliding door. As he had ordered, Bokuto had made sure only three people were present with Iwaizumi. 

Watari, Oikawa, and Kuroo were crouched around him, the person in question still unconscious. As expected from the medical knowledge he had gained, Watari was keeping count of Iwaizumi’s pulse, Kuroo with a stopwatch and notebook, writing down the number Watari called out every thirty seconds. Oikawa couldn’t help in that respect, but he kept running a hand through Iwaizumi’s hair like it would wake him up.

None of them had noticed the arrival of Akaashi and the two adults, until Mizoguchi was pacing forwards with the bag of ice in hand. Oikawa looked up at the footsteps, and his face lit up, eyes watering, huge grin taking place, and his hands reaching out towards him.

“ _ **Coach!!!**_ ” Mizoguchi gave him a sad half-smile, opening his arms and allowing the setter to launch forwards, almost knocking him over. He passed the bag of ice over to Watari, who was grinning brightly but said nothing, too focused on his current task. Patting Oikawa on the back, Mizoguchi was highly aware that his shoulder was being soaked with happy blubbering, Oikawa trying to speak through bubbles of spit as he cried and smiled and couldn’t hold back his excitement.

They hadn’t seen their Coach since the rescue operation. They’d found a new home, they’d settled down, they’d adjusted to their new school and taken exams, but they’d never forgotten how their Coach had accompanied them through the long, empty nights, doing his best to encourage them when they lost all hope. They’d never forgotten his strength, and how they wouldn’t have made it through without him.

If Mizoguchi hadn’t been there, Watari might not have been either. They wouldn’t have had rations, nor clean water or food. They wouldn’t have thought to dig a toilet, affectionately referred to as ‘The Shit-Pit’. And most importantly, they would have ended up sick from the corpses littering The Hill. They would have ended up a quarantine zone like Johzenji, and maybe there would have been no survivors from Aobajosai. If it wasn’t for their Coach, Seijou would not have survived.

“It’s okay, Oikawa. I’m here.” He gently pat the boy on the back, ignoring how the fingers digging desperately into his back were painful. Watari released Iwaizumi’s wrist and thanked Kuroo as he looked over the notes. He frowned a little.

“This is worse than it should be at this stage. I’m thinking that maybe he’s been hiding this a couple of days.” That had Oikawa releasing the hug and quickly wiping his face with his sleeve before easing to his knees in his previous position. 

“Does that mean it’s not sunstroke?”

“No, it definitely is. But that’s only recently. He should be okay with rest and frequent cooling down, but I think there’s an underlying cause. Fatigue, or stress, or even a simple summer cold.” Iwaizumi grunted, his arm twitching and his nose scrunching up before he slowly peeled open his eyes. The first thing he registered was near-darkness. The second was that it wasn’t really as dark as he first thought, it was nice and cool, the curtains were closed, and something _freezing_ was on his forehead. He dazedly lifted an arm and swatted it off.

“Iwa-chan, no. You need this.” It was replaced, and he groaned with a hint of a growl. His eyes slowly adjusted to the lack of light and he looked straight up to see Oikawa smiling down at him, doe eyes bright and innocently round. But they were red around the edges and moist. With a tight frown, Iwaizumi reached up and rubbed at a tear streak on Oikawa’s cheek.

“You’ve been crying...”

“Don’t worry about me, Iwa~. They’re happy tears!” A snort of laughter escaped Iwaizumi.

“Happy I passed out?”

“No! Coach is here!” Watari had to jolt backwards to avoid being headbutted as Iwaizumi sat straight up, the ice pack launched into his lap. Before it could start melting and leave a wet patch, Kuroo snagged it up. He couldn’t hold back a small smile when Iwaizumi’s eyes landed on the Coach and he went silent, rigid. If it hadn’t been for the tiny movements of his chest, Kuroo would have thought he’d stopped breathing in amazement. 

“C-Coach...?”

“Yes?”

“You- You’re really here?”

“Yes, Iwaizumi. I’m here.” Slowly, unbalanced, he tried to push himself into standing up with Watari’s help.

“Steady, steady... Easy now...” He grunted, leaning his weight fully against Watari until Oikawa slipped under his other arm and helped hoist him up. He gave Oikawa a thankful nod before bowing his head towards Mizoguchi.

“Thank you for returning to us!” He blinked, then smiled, reaching out to ruffle his former student’s hair.

“Always.” Slowly, Kuroo stepped out to join Akaashi in the hallway. This was a private moment, something they didn’t want to intrude on. With a deep exhale, Kuroo pushed his hands in his pockets and started walking back down the nightingale corridor. Akaashi followed along, regally stepping the learnt pattern to avoid the floor chirping his presence. He’d learnt it during his first year, and now that he wasn’t in a rush, he could grace across the corridor in silence.

“Well... That was an event.”

“Certainly unexpected, yes. How was the game apart from that?”

“It was great! We never did get a winner though. We were at 24-24 deuce.”

“Ah. I’m sure you can settle it later. We have all weekend.”

“Good point. I hope you’re up for a Cat vs. Owl rematch~.” Akaashi smirked, a dangerous glint in his hooded eyes.

“Of course, Kuroo-san. We won’t lose.”

“That’s my line!” Kuroo laughed as he whacked Akaashi on the back, enough to have him stumble and lose his smug expression to send Kuroo a glare. He sighed when he realised Kuroo was _trying_ to provoke him.

“Come on. I’m sure the rest of Seijou want to know what’s happening.”

“Bo’s showing them the canteen.”

“... We should probably save them.”

“Yeah.” Somewhere along the way, they realised that the grassy area everyone had been meeting on was now set up with canopies and chairs, a peaceful rest area where conversation was rife. Akaashi paused to wave towards his little group that he had previously left, letting them know everything was okay before he continued on with Kuroo. They reached the canteen, quietly pushing open the doors.

Akaashi was expecting them to be sullen. He was expecting them to be sitting at the table in quiet concern over their teammate. 

Which is exactly why he was shocked when they were doing the complete _opposite_.

Kunimi was sitting in a chair, side-on, and casually throwing grapes from a packet into the air. Hanamaki and Kyoutani were obviously competing to see who could catch the most without using their arms, slamming into each other at full force and somehow remaining on their feet as they tackled each other and jumped to catch the grapes in their mouths. 

Bokuto and Matsukawa appeared to have teamed up with one plan in mind – sabotage. They were a using powerful skipping-stone technique to splatter banana slices against the nice, clean Karasuno uniform they’d been provided with. Well, it wasn’t clean anymore.

Yahaba watched with a deadpan stare, but as Akaashi headed over towards someone who seemed like the most sane of the bunch, he realised Yahaba was taking scores. He was literally putting a tally mark in each quadrant on a chart, depending on who got a banana slice or grape. His attention turned to the last of the team, standing in front of a vending machine with a perplexed expression. 

Akaashi didn’t quite understand what was so confusing about a simple vending machine. He approached slowly, cautious just in case this one turned out to be just as abnormal as the others. Then again, surely his hairstyle was an indication...

“Can I help you?” Kindaichi jumped with a small yelp, whirling around on the person who had crept up behind him, silent as the beat of a butterfly’s wings. The Fukurodani setter blinked, visibly taken aback by the extreme reaction. With a blush burning the tips of his ears in embarrassment, Kindaichi reached up and rubbed the back of his neck.

“U-Um! Sorry! I... Startle really easily.” Akaashi smiled, and as pretty as it was, it put him a little at ease.

“So I see~. Are you alright? You looked like you were stuck with something.” Peering around the middle blockers shoulder, Akaashi could see a bag of grapes hanging from one of the metal spirals in the vending machine. 

Stuck.

“Y-Yeah, umm... Kunimi wanted them.”

“... You do realise he’s only throwing them, yes?” Kindaichi heaved a mighty sigh, looking over towards the antics of the others. Kunimi was down to the last few grapes, making it more difficult to get them by throwing them higher, or further distances. Hanamaki almost choked on one, until a laughing Kuroo whacked him on the back to dislodge it. 

“Have you ever tried saying ‘no’ to your best friend?” Akaashi’s eyes slid to Bokuto and he huffed a laugh as the Ace took a huge bite out of a banana, and then sliced the rest to be launched as ammo.

“Many, many times. Some outcomes are more preferable than others.” Kindaichi nodded, very serious, and then froze. Kunimi looked up from the bare grape stalk and held it up like an accusation, narrowing his eyes with murder gleaming in them. Or at least, the threat of silent treatment. With a quiet ‘Eep’, Kindaichi turned back to the vending machine to try and figure out what to do. A gentle laugh next to him was all the warning he got before Akaashi pulled his foot back and _kicked_ the machine on the pane of unbreakable glass, right where the grapes were hanging loose. 

Like magic, they fell. 

“U-Uwa!” Kindaichi’s eyes sparkled with admiration as he watched Akaashi nonchalantly retrieve the packet of grapes, then hold it out towards the younger as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear.

“Here.”

“Th- Thank you!!! But... How?” With a sly smile, Akaashi raised his elbow and slammed it against the vending machine, causing a cereal bar to fall from its slot.

“Keep this a secret between us, okay?”

“I promise, senpai!” Clutching the packet of grapes close, Kindaichi bounded back over to Kunimi’s side, who wordlessly took the packet and opened it, picking out the smallest grape and _launching_ it across the room. Both Kyoutani and Hanamaki gave chase, the latter hurdling over a table in order to catch it.

“HA! Beat _that_ , Mad Dog!”

“Fuckin’ watch me.” Closer to the group than Hanamaki, Kyoutani had the advantage when the next grape was thrown in a high, steep arch. His speed also helped, dropping to his knees and sliding on them. Unfortunately, his aim was off. 

The grape bounced off his chin and Matsukawa stepped forwards to smoosh an entire banana in his face. Yahaba was the first to howl with laughter, followed by Hanamaki, who apparently did not fear death-by-teammate, and then Kuroo and Bokuto who were unaware of Kyoutani’s bursts of violence. 

“...” Sharp, golden eyes slid over to them, narrowed threateningly. Kindaichi, pale as a sheet, gulped and backed away, leaving Matsukawa and the captains to face Kyoutani’s wrath. He stepped towards them, reaching out to grab Matsukawa’s collar when a hand jabbed into his ribs and sent him to the floor with a dignified grunt. Notebook tucked under his arm, Yahaba smirked down at him.

“Let’s stop before someone gets hurt, shall we~?”

“ _Asshole_.” Yahaba only gave a fake, sweet smile, before he went to step away. 

That was mistake number one. A hand tugged around his ankle and he shrieked as he went down, reaching for the closest person.

That was mistake number two. Bokuto’s trousers fell with him.

The third and final mistake was that Bokuto had chosen to fulfil a dare by Konoha that day, and was currently in nothing more than a thong. A very skimpy, lacy thong. 

It took three seconds of silence for Kuroo to process what had just happened and burst out into ugly guffaws, dropping to his knees and clutching his stomach. Bokuto screeched and tugged his trousers back up, then ran out of the canteen still making noises like a pterodactyl. Akaashi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he watched the canteen fall into chaos, the second and third years laughing, Kunimi snickering, and poor Kindaichi as red as a tomato.

For some reason, he felt like the arrival of Seijou at their training camp suddenly made things a lot more hectic and chaotic. And perhaps even, more _fun_. He couldn’t hold back a smile, seeing them behaving so normally, overcoming trauma and proving that they were possibly the strongest people here. 

They’d lost their friends, their families, their homes. 

Then, through inner strength alone, they had built up from the beginning. They’d found new homes. They’d adapted to their new families. They reached out to make new friends. Here, at the final training weekend before the third years graduated, they could solidify those bonds, create new ones, and make lasting memories. They’d never be able to replace the sadness, or rewrite the fate of Aobajosai. But they could chose their own destinies, their own _futures_ , just by staying strong.

That thought in mind, Akaashi slipped out to go and find Bokuto, noticing Kuroo had left a few seconds beforehand. Whether he was going to find Bokuto himself, or spread the news of the thong incident, Akaashi didn’t really want to know. He lifted a hand towards Matsukawa in a gesture of ‘give me a moment’, and the blocker nodded in response, having pulled himself together first.

“Alright guys, you know the deal. Let’s clean up this mess we’ve made.” The group groaned as he passed out some cloths he had gathered from the kitchen area earlier, but nonetheless, they set about wiping the tables, the floor, and more often than not, each other. Snickers and giggles still arose from them, as they scrubbed the banana splats and squashed grapes away competitively, pushing at each other and waddling around on their feet, hands on the cloth on the floor. 

Hanamaki sniggered as Matsukawa went past in this baboon walking style, and twirled his cloth around before _whipping_ it out across his buttcheeks. Understandably, he yelped, springing to his feet.

“ _TaKE **HIRO!!!**_ ” Hanamaki cackled and took off, highly aware that Matsukawa was right on his heels. They did a full loop of the canteen, Hanamaki gaining more of a lead with each step, until he looked over his shoulder and crashed into something with full-force.

“Oof!”

“Careful, Hanamaki! Honestly, how many times do I have to tell you to-!”

“ _ **Coach!**_ ” Mizoguchi was cut off by mid-sentence as strong arms squeezed around his waist, lifting him a few centimetres off the ground. He would have protested, if it hadn’t been the first time he’d seen his boys in over a month. So, he allowed it, lowered back to the floor and then dogpiled by the others. He wasn’t sure which of them were crying and which of them were laughing, or a combination of the both, because his head was pressed against someone’s shoulder, and he didn’t know who, but his hair was being ruffled and he was being squashed and he was just-

Just so, _so_ grateful. 

His boys were here. They were alive. And most importantly, they were themselves.

It seemed silly to think that, he confessed when revising the simplicity of the words. But it was true. He’d seen them absolutely crushed, in spirit and personality. He’d seen them mourn, seen them cry, seen them fall into timid silence. He’d watched over them as they slept, the desire to stay awake drowned out by the waters below. He’d listened to their careful conversations, topics so placid that there was no way they could go wrong. 

He’d experienced what it was like to watch his team – his _children_ \- wither and die whilst remaining alive. He’d experienced feeling them slip away, like silk ribbons being pulled from his grip, desperately trying to cling on and prevent them from becoming empty husks. 

He didn’t know how, but somehow, he’d done it. Or rather, they’d done it. They’d pulled themselves back from that hopelessness and loss and used it to power themselves forwards, pushing towards a new tomorrow. They’d been accepted into loving families and a welcoming school, finished their final exams of the year, and become exemplary beings.

They’d done it.

They’d survived. Mizoguchi knew that at some point, his own teary laughter had joined the racket the boys were creating, but he couldn’t be happier. 

“H-Hey, come on now, let me breathe!” 

“If you think we’re ever letting go again, you’d be wrong! Last time we let go, you disappeared and we haven’t seen you since then!”

“I was _helping with the rescue_ , you idiots!” Laughing, they backed off, just far enough to give their Coach room to breathe. There was a dull look in each of their eyes, a small flicker of hesitance. He realised they were waiting for news, expectant that it would be bad, and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I’m sorry. Only- Only 10 people are listed as alive from Aobajosai.” Their faces, already fallen, morphed into despair. Yahaba tightly screwed his eyes shut, angling his head downwards. His arm reached out and softly pressed against Kindaichi’s back as he broke into a sob, hands coming up to pathetically scrub at his watering eyes. Kunimi glanced at him in sympathy, wringing his hands in the bottom of his shirt and biting his lip. Standing next to Kunimi, Kyoutani exhaled long and slow, hands curled into fists and a headache forming. Hanamaki’s high-pitch whimper was cut off by a choke, obviously trying to hold it back until he noticed silent tears dripping down Matsukawa’s face, and he gave in to the soft cries. 

Mizoguchi didn’t know what to say after that point. He’d never been exceptionally good with words, or affectionate. He wasn’t the type of person who could uplift others through speech, or comfort them at this stage of upset. Instead, he opened his arms and wrapped it around them as much as he could, pulling them all in close. He hoped his arms said the words he never could.

_I’m glad you’re safe._

“Is this a bad time?” The gentle whisper broke through their huddle and Kunimi went on tiptoes to peer over someone’s shoulder, noticing Takeda in the canteen doorway. He didn’t bother to answer the question, wriggling his way out of the huddle to come over to the teacher with a worried expression.

“How’s Iwaizumi?” The corners of Takeda’s lips turned upwards in a soft, sad smile.

“Sleeping. His temperature is coming down and he’s had some medicine. He’ll be fine after sleeping it off~.”

“What caused it...?”

“Watari-kun mentioned sunstroke, atop stress and fatigue. We found out from Kageyama that he’s been studying relentlessly and barely sleeping.” Kunimi sighed, running a hand through his fringe, once more irritated at how long it was getting.

“Oikawa and Watari are still with him?”

“They were both very insistent, yes.”

“Okay. Thank you.” He bowed politely, respectfully, before Takeda returned it and walked off to inform the other staff members. Kunimi watched him disappear, then turned around. At some point whilst he was distracted, Mizoguchi had managed to shake the boys off and get them back to cleaning up. _Sensibly_ , this time. 

Yeah, he wanted no part of that.

With skills he had gained from many instances of skipped drills, he crept away, sneaking out the canteen and towards the grassy area where everyone was relaxing and chatting. Hiding in plain sight, Kunimi had quickly learnt, was the best way to avoid being caught. It was bit like a “Where’s Wally” book, considering the amount of tall, black haired players. His gaze flicked around until he noticed a group he could assimilate into.

A gathering of first years. 

With Goshiki from Shiratorizawa, a boy from Nekoma he didn’t recognise, and Kageyama all having black hair, Kunimi could easily stake out there until Coach realised he was missing and looked around _closely_. He casually approached, noticed by Yamaguchi, who shuffled over to make a space for him.

“Hey. Did I miss anything?” Yamaguchi shook his head, his friendly grin in place.

“Just introductions! We’ve only just sat down. Oh, um! You know us and Shiratorizawa, but there’s also Suzumeda-chan and Onaga from Fukurodani, and Inuoka, Haiba, and Shibayama from Nekoma.” He gestured to each one with the brief introduction, and from their reactions, Kunimi could tell he was going to avoid Inuoka and Haiba like the _plague_. He’d only just adapted to being on the same team as Hinata, Noya, and Tanaka. There was no way he was going to willingly spend time with even **more** enthusiastic, energetic people. Sometimes people were just too exhausting.

Tsukishima seemed to agree, completely blanking everything else, with his elbows propped up on his knees, and chin resting in his hands, headphones pulled over his ears. He stared up a tree blandly, attempting to imagine his happy place despite the noise over his music. Not that he _had_ a happy place. Currently, he was imagining sending Hinata and Lev off on a wild goose chase, just for some peace and quiet. 

So that’s exactly what he did. Slyly, of course.

“Goshiki. Do you know where your captain has disappeared to?”

“Huh? Last I saw, he was heading to the gym with Semi, Tendou, and Reon! I think they’re practicing.”

“Aaah, I see.”

“Why are you asking?”

“Because I haven’t seen Natsu around recently. And since Ushijima is apparently her favourite...” He didn’t have to wait long for Hinata to clock on and squawk in horror. He flailed around, flopping backwards into the grass before jumping up to his feet in one swift motion, a fire burning in his eyes and fist clenched.

“I can’t allow that! She’s still my _baby_ sister!”

“Oi, dumbass! Wait up!”

“Hinataaa, wait for meeee!” Hinata sprinted off, Kageyama and Lev on his heels. Tsukishima smirked and Kunimi couldn’t hold back a snicker, despite the fact that Yamaguchi was shaking his head from side to side disapprovingly. Suzumeda, the first year Fukurodani manager, rolled her eyes. Goshiki and Inuoka shared a confused glance.

“Didn’t Yachi take her to the bathroom?”

“I’m sure she did!”

“She did. Tsukki was just taking advantage of Hinata’s short attention span.”

“Actually I was taking advantage of his stupidity.” 

“ _Tsukki!_ ” Kunimi laughed. He wrapped an arm over his stomach and laughed, bright and cheerful. It was like windchimes in the breeze, the twinkling of stars in the sky, a bud opening into a flower. The light sound, delicate as it sounded, was one of the first solid laughs he’d had since they’d been enrolled at Karasuno. 

It felt like a weight off his shoulders.

It felt like finally making new friends and belonging.

It felt like healing.

It felt like _healing._

It was healing. 

He was healing.

As little as a week ago, he couldn’t imagine feeling anything more than ‘okay’ and ‘coping’. Yet here he was, sitting on the cool grass, arm around his belly and laughter floating from his throat, from his _heart_ , with ease. He felt like himself again, just a little. A step in the right direction. 

For a moment, he feared that maybe the others were staring at him in offence for laughing at an insult that sharp, but when he peeled his eyes back open, he realised he hadn’t been the only one laughing. The only two that weren’t laughing were Shibayama and Yamaguchi, but Kunimi had quickly come to realise that they were just too kind to laugh out loud about things like this, behind someone’s back. 

“Yuuki!” Shibayama quickly turned around to see Yaku come hobbling over. After spraining his ankle in the match against Nohebi, he’d been advised to RICE it – Rest it, Ice it, Compress it, Elevate it – for a good six weeks. He was ignoring most of that advice, especially in the face of the earthquake, only a week later. He still had a good week to go until he could start _slowly_ getting back into the sport.

“Yaku-senpai, what’s wrong!?”

“Nothing, Nothing! We’re having a libero meet, come on!”

“O-oh! Right!” With a polite wave and gentle smile, Shibayama followed after Yaku to go off towards gymnasium 2. 

“Ah, Tsukki, Kuroo-san is calling us from over there.”

“Ignore him.” A light teasing tone entered Tsukishima’s voice, one that Kunimi was sure only he and Yamaguchi could pick up.

“He’s coming over.”

“Don’t make eye contact, don’t speak, and don’t even breathe.”

“You hurt me, Tsukki~.” Two flat hands landed heavily on Tsukishima’s shoulders and he sighed with resignation.

“Yes, yes. I get it. Middle blockers meeting. Fun.”

“Don’t be sarcastic. C’mon! Inuoka, help me drag this fool!” Inuoka promptly shook his head and jogged away, towards gymnasium 3. Kuroo tuned to Yamaguchi next, grinning expectantly. The younger sighed, then reached forwards and stole Tsukishima’s headphones.

“Wha-!? _Yamaguchi!_ ” Tsukishima didn’t have time to get off the floor before Yamaguchi was already too far for him to reach, even if he did give chase. There was no option but to follow, which he did with a heavy scowl. Kuroo cackled before turning back to Goshiki, Kunimi and Suzumeda.

“Wing spikers are meeting in Gymnasium 1, and managers are staying out here, I believe~.” Suzumeda nodded, making herself very comfortable where she was. Kunimi grunted. He didn’t particularly want to move. Effort. But then Goshiki was standing and obviously waiting for him.

“... Can’t you go by yourself?”

“O-Of course I could!” He raised an eyebrow as Goshiki fidgeted.

“... I have a very bad sense of direction.”

“The gym is literally right there.”

“That’s gym 3.”

“There’s only two other gyms to check.”

“I got lost at my own school! Tendou-senpai wouldn’t stop making fun of me for a month!” Kunimi blinked. He sighed. He pushed himself up from the ground and slouched as he started towards Gym 1. Goshiki perked up and followed, like an obedient puppy. Actually, Kunimi thought, a lot like Kindaichi. He snickered at the comparison.

If he was going to liken them to dogs, then Goshiki was a slightly dim-witted French bulldog, and Kindaichi was a nervous German shepherd with good intentions, but bad execution of mentioned intentions. Prone to jumping up at things or piddling in excitement. Kunimi snorted loudly, drawing Goshiki’s intention, but all he could see now was a French bulldog tilting its head to the side with a soft whine.

“Kunimi! Get back here, you slacker!” Ah.

Shit.

Caught skipping.

With a groan, Kunimi stuffed his hands into his pockets and slunk guiltily over to Mizoguchi, who was waiting with an angry expression and hands on hips. Great. He was going to get chewed out for not cleaning, in front of someone from a rival school. 

Surprisingly, there was a hand ruffling his hair instead of a lecture.

“Tell us where you’re going next time. You almost gave Matsukawa a heart attack.”

“... S-sorry.” Guilt flooded him. Of course the others were worried! He’d just disappeared, without warning, in an unfamiliar place. He hung his head low, ashamed of himself. 

“It’s not me you have to apologise to. Anyways. I dismissed them a minute or so ago. Take your friend and go to the meet-up. Maybe the experience will help you learn something.”

“The others are already there?”

“Mhm. Hanamaki said he’d be looking for you in Gym 3. Go on, get moving!” Despite the way Mizoguchi shouted and barked the orders, Kunimi knew there was no real anger in his words. He’d been worried, just as much as his team. Kunimi bowed quickly before speed-walking to the location. 

It wasn’t hard to identify Hanamaki, bright strawberry blond hair - closer to pink – poking up above the shorter spikers.

“Senpai.” Dark brown eyes whipped to his location and then Hanamaki was pushing his way through the crowds with a sing-song ‘excuse me~’ until he reached Kunimi, who he pulled into a headlock.

“Where the hell did you go to, huh?! You’re a nightmare!”

“Sorry. I went out for some air.” The headlock was released and Hanamaki looked at him in concern.

“You alright? Not coming down with whatever Iwaizumi’s got?”

“No. I... Had fun.” Dimples appeared at the corner of his mouth as he smiled, and Hanamaki stared for a solid seven seconds before pulling him in to a tight hug.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. No, better than okay. You had us worried.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll tell someone where I’m going next ti-”

“No, I mean! Worried in general. You and Kindaichi... You’re the babies of our team. So, we... We were so so worried about how this would all affect you. I’m just really happy to see that you’re- that you’re _smiling_ again.” Kunimi huffed, reaching up and pinching Hanamaki’s side, pulling away from the hug.

“Stop worrying. We’re fine. Me _and_ Kindaichi. We’re both fine. Honestly, we were more worried about the rest of you.” A grunt interrupted them, Kyoutani approaching from the side looking disgruntled.

“What are you worrying ‘bout us for?”

“... Not particularly you. You weren’t _there_.” Kyoutani shrugged, shrinking in on himself a little. He hadn’t been there. He’d had no idea what hell they had been through, no matter how much he heard about it or saw the destroyed site on TV. Kyoutani had been lucky to escape such trauma, whilst his teammates had not.

“... You know what, forget this. Let’s get outta here.” Hanamaki wrapped an arm around both their backs, nudging them towards the door.

“Kyoutani, go and get Yahaba. He’s at the setters meet, in the courtyard. Kunimi, you remember which room we were staying in?”

“Yes?”

“Great. I’m gonna get Issei and Kindaichi and we’ll have our own group meeting.”

“Osu.” Kyoutani stuck his hands in his pockets and slunk off to find their setter, whilst Kunimi started trundling back towards the building all the rooms were in. Hanamaki exhaled loudly. He cracked his back and rolled his shoulders to loosen them, before walking back over to the corner where he’d left Asahi. 

“Oi, Azumane!” The Ace jumped, but spared a small smile.

“Did- Did you find him?”

“Yeah. We’re gonna go chill out in our room. No point leaving Iwaizumi, Oikawa and Watari out of the fun.”

“I understand. Umm! The schedule was just updated, a few minutes ago. Dinner is now at 7, instead of 8. Can you tell the others?”

“Sure thing. Thanks, big guy!” Asahi winced at the whack on his back, rubbing the sore spot as Hanamaki sprinted out the building. Slowing to a jog in front of Gym 2, Hanamaki cupped his hands around his mouth.

“HOE DON’T DO IT!”

“OH MY GOD.” The reply was accompanied by the crowd parting as Matsukawa dragged Kindaichi by the wrist, over to Hanamaki with a grin. They met with a fist-bump, of course, and took pace alongside Hanamaki as he started walking.

“Kunimi turned up at the meet, then I decided we could have our _own_ meet.”

“Good idea. If we have to do it, so do the others.”

“I love that you know exactly what I’m thinking.”

“Hey, I’m all for communal suffering.” Kindaichi blinked in confusion, caught off guard by how rapid they conversed, and followed along with no clue where they were going. 

“Hey! Wait up!” The third years stopped suddenly, Kindaichi walking straight into them and ending up on his butt on the floor. Yahaba laughed as he approached from behind, bending down to help him up.

“Careful~.”

“S-Sorry senpai!”

“Chill, Kindaichi.”

“Yeah, it’s okay as long as you’re not hurt. Are you hurt?” He shook his head as he was pulled to his feet, and pat on each shoulder.

“Good. Then let’s back to our room~.” Wordlessly, they fell into a formation of Hanamaki and Matsukawa leading the way, Kindaichi in the middle, and Kyoutani and Yahaba at the back. Joyfully, Matsukawa whistled a children’s song, swinging his arms with each step. They entered the building, taking their shoes off at the entrance and placing their shoes on a neat shelf, before heading towards their room.

The door was open, soft murmuring from inside. Iwaizumi was conscious and awake once more, sitting up against a pile of pillows, and looking through a magazine as Oikawa lay flat on the floor next to him and held the magazine up at arm’s length for them both to read. Watari was setting up futons around the room, laying them out in the same way that their training camp, long before the Spring Preliminaries, had been organised. Kunimi had probably been helping up to a certain point, but had gotten distracted, laying across Oikawa’s lap with his head resting on one of Iwaizumi’s thighs. 

The Ace softly stroked his hair absent-mindedly, the action just as soothing for him as the one receiving it. He looked over at the door as Hanamaki rapped his knuckles against it to the same tune Matsukawa was whistling. The bag of ice shifted from his forehead and he quickly pushed it back into place with his free hand, giving a half-smile to the entrants. 

“Took your time, didn’t you?”

“Well ex-cuuuuse us. _We_ weren’t already lying in a calm, empty room.” Iwaizumi chuckled, voice hoarse, and he coughed into his hand. He was beginning to regret all his night-long study sessions and frequent refusal to sleep thanks to nightmares. Still, that wasn’t the matter at hand. 

He noticed Kindaichi looking at him with concern and nibbling on the inside of his bottom lip. Softly, he pat the spot next to him and Kindaichi came over, sitting down. Iwaizumi lifted his arm, looped it around him, and pulled him in closer. Kunimi gave a displeased grunt at the lack of attention, now that his hair was left alone.

“Oi, oi, don’t be selfish~.” Kunimi grunted once more in resignation, just resting where he was.

“You’d better not be having a hug fest without me!” Hanamaki plonked himself behind Iwaizumi, wrenching the pillows out the way so the he was now the only thing propping Iwaizumi up. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, but didn’t protest. Hanamaki’s chest was surprisingly soft and comfy, with the added bonus of a soothing heartbeat. Matsukawa huffed in amusement as the huddle, moving over to Oikawa’s side and lying down next to him in the opposite direction. He used Kunimi’s legs as a pillow, mischievously turning his foot to tap his toes against Oikawa’s cheek. 

“Mattsun! Not the face! Your socks are gross!”

“They’re only sweaty from a volleyball game among other things~.”

“Ewwww!!!!” 

“Oikawa, stop whingeing. Matsukawa, get your foot out of his face.”

“Yes _mum_.”

“Don’t take that tone of voice with me.” Watari laughed as Matsukawa obey, bending his legs so that they were pointed away from Oikawa’s face. Having set out the last futon, with Yahaba allocating the belongings on each one, Watari came over and slung himself over Hanamaki’s shoulders casually. With a soft laugh, Yahaba came over to Kindaichi’s side, giving a fair warning before plonking on his lap. 

It knocked the air out of him, but Kindaichi did neither complain, nor push him off. Instead, he allowed Yahaba to physically manipulate his arm, the setter pulling it around himself like a blanket. Watching it all from a few steps back, Kyoutani frowned in distaste.

“You’re all ridiculous.”

“We’re all together.”

“Yeah, KyouKen-chan! Get over here!” Gruffly, Kyoutani scuffled towards Oikawa’s end of the heap, and left a good meter or so between them. He was, however, angled perfectly to see the pages of the magazine. His eyes widened as Oikawa flicked through, looking for something fun or interesting.

“Oi, Oi! Go back a page! No, one more! There!” He lunged forwards, pointing at a small article in the corner that could have been easily missed.

_Aobajosai to participate in Spring Nationals?_

It couldn’t be the football team. Or the baseball team, or the basketball team. Not the swimming team, nor the tennis team. Because only the volleyball team had survived. 

“Wh-What?”

“That’s got to be wrong. Karasuno eliminated us in the prelims.” Oikawa slowly sat up, eyes fixated on the article as he read through.

“It’s not wrong... It’s not wrong! Look! It’s a got a quote from Ukai!” The boys clambered and climbed over each other to peek a look, mindful of Oikawa’s knee and Iwaizumi.

_“These kids are no longer a separate team. They’re part of Karasuno. Whilst it would be unfair to our regular players to have them start out on the court, I’m looking forwards to having them participate as bench players, and occasionally substituting in.”_

“We can play! We- We can play!” Excitement. Hugging. Cheering. Crying. Relief.

There were so many emotions collaborating together, and so many actions resulting from the swirling, mixing, colourful emotions. In the end, it wore them out. Their initial carefulness had been thrown to the wind, laying across each other in a heap of contortions and amusing poses. 

As the one with the highest energy, Hanamaki remained awake; the magazine now in his lap as he looked through the section targeted towards teenage girls, with a quiz for _“Which Disney female are you?”_ It was strangely addictive, and he really didn’t give a shit about target audience. If he wanted to be a Disney princess, he was goddamn going to be a Disney princess.

“Rapunzel, huh. Should’ve expected that.” A snore caught his attention and he looked up to see Oikawa drooling. A devious idea popped into his head and he snickered, returning to question number one. He slowly tiptoed across the room to Yahaba’s bag once he had finished part one of his plan, and pulled a thick, felt-tip pen out of Yahaba’s stationary set.

Hanamaki’s tongue stuck out the corner of his mouth in concentration as he wrote. The naughty thing about it? He wasn’t using paper. He was writing directly onto his teammates foreheads. Sniggering, he took a step back to admire his work, the snoring, drooling boys utterly oblivious to his scheme. 

He’d competed the quiz for each of them, relieved when it had been a different result each time. Now, when they awoke, the team would be in the know about their Disney female identifications. He had to very strongly agree with Oikawa as Merida, Iwaizumi as Nani, and Kindaichi as Ariel. 

He slightly questioned Watari being Alice and Kunimi as Tinkerbell, as well as Matsukawa as Jasmine. Something seemed off about that, but he couldn’t think of anything more suitable off the top of his head, so he stuck with it. When Yahaba had ended up a Belle, he was very tempted to write ‘Beast’ on Kyoutani’s forehead, but he resisted and stuck with the magazine’s foretelling of Megara. He snickered. 

“Hanamaki.” He froze. With a guilty grin, he slowly turned his head to the doorway. Mizoguchi was leaning up against the doorframe and rolled his eyes.

“Give me the pen. Which one were you?” Pouting, Hanamaki realised what was about to happen.

“Rapunzel...” The pen brushed against his forehead gently, a tickling sensation that had him shudder as he held back a giggle.

“There. Now fair is fair.”

“Ah, ah~. Not quite~.” He scooped the magazine up from the floor and held it out to Mizoguchi, open on the quiz page with a devious grin. The Coach stared at him blankly, deadpan, but in the end, took the magazine from Hanamaki’s hands and passed over the pen. He took a few seconds, eyes trailing the page until he came across his answer and sighed.

“Mulan.” Hanamaki delighted in making his kanji extra curvy and pretty, with little hearts on each side. Mizoguchi knew. He could feel it being drawn and he narrowed his eyes in a half-hearted glare. Both their attention was stolen by a soft whimper from the pile. 

In a flash, Hanamaki was crouching down by Oikawa and softly running a hand through his hair, leaning over and whispering soft words into his ear, despite how strained and stressed he appeared by the upset. It broke Mizoguchi’s heart, face falling, to see two of his children in such pain. 

“I- I wish they didn’t have to suffer...”

“You know, there’s a quote about suffering someone taught me whilst we were- Were cleaning up Aobajosai. I- I remember it clearly.” Hanamaki, ever the literature enthusiast, looked up at him with expectancy. Mizoguchi took in a deep breath, closing his eyes as he sank to his knees on the floor, putting himself at the same level as the boys.

“Nobody will protect you from your suffering. You can’t cry it away or eat it away or starve it away or walk it away or punch it away or even therapy it away. It’s just there, and you have to survive it. You have to endure it. You have to live through it and love it and move on and be better for it and run as far as you can in the direction of your best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by your own desire to heal.”

“… That- That’s beautiful… Then... Does that mean we survived it? B-Because we found a new home? A new beginning?” Softly, Mizoguchi offered him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Yeah… Yes.” Hanamaki seemed placated, and he nodded his head in a gesture of thanks. The welling up in his chest prevented him from speaking, like a bubble of feeling that plugged up his throat. He couldn’t get the words out, couldn’t voice how _at peace_ he felt with that quote. He couldn’t say how important it was, how much it meant to him.

Instead, with a yawn, he settled against Oikawa, curling around Yahaba, and closed his eyes. It was like a petal-scattered breeze had swept over him, drying away tears and brushing against his skin, and making his heart feel _full_. Surrounded by his peers, wrapped up amongst his friends, sleeping peacefully with his family… 

Mizoguchi sighed, shaking his head with a small smile. He pushed himself from his position, and gather up the blankets from the futons. Carefully, as light as possible so that he didn’t wake them, he tucked the blankets around each individual. He stood back, watching over them for a moment and was struck with how familiar yet how _**different**_ it was from on top of The Hill.

The Hill had been cold. It had been horror and grief and emptiness. It had been tiptoeing around each other with tension and trying to stay strong when they felt so weak. It was the world crumbling, and their lives ending with it.

_This_ was warm and loving and peaceful, teammates who genuinely loved and cherished each other taking a moment of rest. They were just recharging for the busy, happy days ahead. It was the future, born from their fighting spirit and their own desire to heal, despite blindly stumbling around for a while.

But in both circumstances, they had been 9 boys and their Coach. 

The ending of one part of their young lives.

The beginning of the next, brighter chapter.

They had been together, and that was all that really mattered.

Even if the ground had been torn apart, and family ripped from their grasps, nothing would break these boys from each other.

Not even a Sendai Magnitude 10.0.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand that's it.
> 
> Guys, you have all been so amazing for sticking with me through this, with your beautiful comments and reviews, and I am so _so_ grateful for every single kudos. I hope the ending lived up to expectation and you all enjoyed it.
> 
> On a brighter note, I'm taking requests on Tumblr!  
> (https://www.tumblr.com/blog/russiansunflower3)  
> If you've sent in a request and I haven't replied, it's because I'm keeping it in my inbox as a prompt reminder.  
> I currently have three, which are all going to be multi-chapter, so I may be slow getting them out.  
> Even so, please send more!


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